The Hunter of Screams
by CodeName-M.e
Summary: Carl has been kidnapped by the airship Screams of Lucille capt Negan. Rick is the brooding fearless leader & captain to airship The Bandit Hunter, Michonne is calm and Daryl is ready to fight. Richonne AU timeline where corsets and high waist coat are pair with top hats, goggles and pocket watch. The dead isn't the only problem in this airship automaton world of steampun
1. Never Surrender

_**Currently**_

* * *

"Never Surrender"

Now there is a certain kind of feeling in the air after a heavy storm Michonne thought; there was a slight chill in the air, the moon high and bright gave this beautiful and ghostly apparition to the buildings. The sky made everything almost transparent, the fog was light and the pulse of the storm in the night sky still lingers on. Michonne had watch on in silence as her two travel companion continue with their heavy discussion with the well season taxi driver and his going rate for their last minute destination; it went back and forth with the driver as the man would not budge from his going rate. Being so that it is, the driver was off the clock and greedily fluctuate the rate as he see fit and stood firm with it, his accent rolls quickly off his tongue as the men try to get him to budge, and of course, to no avail they relent and the driver smile with glee when they finally accepted. It was one of those new motorize carriage car and her first ride in one of them too. It seems to be the first time for everything for Michonne; first airship, first time being abroad, first rescue mission, she was a ball of nerves and excitement but ready and aware for anything.

Seated comfortably Michonne looks out the window to take advantage of what the moon bless her with to view the sight she could see from her window. It is truly a wonder how the city stays true to the nostalgia of the past. Each buildings some tall others just a few stories and each one manage to pull you in the beauty and its darkness. Across from her sat Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon, they were discussing the piece of paper Daryl had in his hand, they had all ponder for quite some time on the series of number written at the closing, could be some kind of code they thought.

Not sure how long she was staring out the window lost in the city of night but she did feel the carriage jerk forward before finally stopping.

"Where here" Rick says to her.

Taking a hold of what belonging they brought along with them they exit the motor carriage single file. Parasol in one hand Michonne grasps her lover hand as he helps her takes the last step from the carriage. Her black and silver buckle boots touches the piece of cloth left for her so her boots doesn't touch the soft soil, she was touch by the chivalry and looks at Rick but he shakes his head and point to the driver who still had the door open, the driver tips his hat at her and Michonne thanks him.

Looking around Michonne is surprise how busy the place still was as she naturally reaches down to smooth out the wrinkles from her dress as the curious stares from the patrons of the depot station stare back at them. Rick whispers in her ear that there was no need as she is always beautiful made her smile and her heart sang.

The three made their way to the entrance, Michonne in awe with the giant angel figures above the entrance doors. The pair in matching poise were both wielding armor and sword unsheathed, their golden eyes were both calming and menacing in their stoic poise. Upon entry they each show the bored ticket agent their passes and he hands them each a ticket. Making their way first through a long corridor and then down a set of stairs to the underbelly of the very loud and noisy train depot. According to the note, the meeting time was at forty minute before midnight between ramp fifty five. They stood off to the side of the dock and wait, Michonne senses her lover getting tense. Her smile grew larger as she observes him pull out his pocket watch for the fourth time, a nervous tick of his.

She reaches out and gives his arm a reassuring squeeze, the intense anxious feeling Rick had the moment they arrive soften when his blue eyes connect with her brown. He places it back in his pocket and adjusts his waistcoat.

Daryl scrutinizes the intimate exchange between the two and it is evident on his face that he wants to ask what is truly going on between them but it was neither the time nor the place.

Michonne turns her attention back to the depot, she watch as different trains of massive proportions slowly pull up to drop off passengers exit from one side and the other enter the other side. The reflection of the chrome bounce off the depot walls in hues of yellow, red and flecks of gold even silver. Transfix by the beautiful machinery as the horns blares and the intense steam emanating from the engines as it slowly picks up speed on exit was truly a sight.

It was truly a surprise when their contact approaches them. The man had a huge smirk on his face as he walk up to them a slight limp only to stop a few feet from them and he leans on his cane. They all eye this cane of his thinking it was some sort of ruse. As quickly as he removes his top hand and slightly bow at Michonne was enough for the three to remove their weapon and point it at him. His smirk widens as he smooth his blonde hair before replacing the hat back on his head.

"I probably deserve that." He said

"You think." Daryl said in anger, "Why are you here?"

He then eyes their weapons still on him, "Do you mind."

"We don't mind at all." Michonne reply as she mocks the smirk on his face with one of her own.

It was like this, guns drawn at the ready on him for a few minutes, he sighs he knew he would have to earn their trust considering the whole mess he got then in, "Look, it was I who sent you the note, to meet here."

Rick wasn't budging, his eyes in slits head tilted, "And why should we believe you?"

He stutters, "I,I,I-"

Daryl roll his eyes, "I, I, I man spit it out or this bolt would kindly remind you why you have a limp and damage the other leg of yours."

"I know what happened back there, but I was just following orders. You know how that's like?" He ask

"We don't follow any order." Rick answers

That is very true Michonne thought, she cannot think of a time where these two has ever taken anyone orders. Having met nearly a year or so ago, track of time long forgotten when you're at the race against time for stolen documents, obtaining information of missing love ones and stopping world domination has gotten tricky. It nearly had Michonne forget why they were standing there in the first place, she was beginning to understand that the rules will always change and they are going to need all the help they can get.

Michonne sigh and put her gun down and face Rick and Daryl, "I'm sure he's taking a risk coming here the least we can do is hear him speak."

 _ **We need to go back to how this really started.**_


	2. CH 1: Freedom '90

_**The Bandit Hunter and The Screams of Lucille**_

 _ **Nearly a year or so ago**_

* * *

Sitting in the cabin of the airship belonging to Richard "Rick" Grimes, is Rick himself, Michonne Brownfield and Daryl Dixon. They are enjoying a meal of roast duck and Yorkshire pudding; the centerpiece was a bowl of fruit consisting of mangosteen, oranges and papayas; a gift to Rick from Dr. Greene, for helping him clear his daughter's and son-in-law's names. This was Michonne first evening dining with Mr. Grimes and Mr. Dixon in Rick's cabin. Usually, she would dine on her own in her cabin, so thought it would be an interesting evening, especially with Mr. Dixon and his famous one word, grunt-like responses. Michonne often found herself looking at the man and wondering if he speaks; she did so again now. It was the first time the three actually sat down to a meal together without any distractions or complications.

The first week on the ship, Michonne was laid up in her cabin fighting a bout of air sickness, worried she wasn't going to get to use to it. Rick was full of concern and even entertained the thought of docking and working on another form of transportation until she recovered. But as soon as the following week came around, he and Daryl witnessed her taking a turn around the ship with their cook Eugene. She was a bit shaky and he noticed Eugene in a state of conflict first because she asked him to escort her around the deck. He was concerned about leaving his beloved kitchen unattended.

Eugene begged her to return to her room but she was not having any of it as they continued to take another turn. Upon seeing both Rick and Daryl, Michonne waves, and Rick waves back while Daryl is seen to be scowling, as usual.

Another week in and Michonne was asking questions, exploring as well as making a friend with just about everyone below and above. The crew took to Ms. Brownfield and her infectious smile and laughter. Jesus, their surveillance and weapon expert, would skulk around and watch her. It was while wandering around the ship in boredom he watched her make her way down to the engine room. She would observe with fascinated curiosity as the men worked the gadgets that made the airship fly. Placing the goggles over her eyes so she could see in all that overwhelming cloud of steam; it was down there that Jesus officially introduce himself and explained how everything worked.

Knowing it was an informal meal and feeling a dress would get in the way while on the airship, Michonne wore pants that were dark in color and left behind by a Mrs. Rhee. It was a bit loose around the waist so she fashioned a belt with a piece of leather Jesus gave her. She also wore another piece of clothing courtesy of Mrs. Rhee: a lace corset blouse that was light and airy; she completed the look with her favorite leather boots. Michonne fashioned her hair in a simple up-do and the goggles given to her upon boarding rest comfortably above her head.

Upon entry of Rick's quarters, Michonne gasped inwardly at the clutter of books and papers in disarray on the floor and desk. Several maps were open on the table near the desk as well as a few on the floor. The trunks that held his personal affects and belongings were open, his clothing all high class and expensive, were also a mess; was Mr. Grimes trying to impress her and couldn't decide what to wear? This made Michonne smile at the thought of it all. He apologizes for the mess once they enter his cabin and Michonne forces herself to not survey the room anymore.

That was short live when she saw his toiletries; it look like he was about to shave but change his mind. Michonne silently thanks the Gods. The man was in dire need of a shave and haircut and yes, he also seem to favor a pair of black pants over the others, but Rick disheveled appearance works for him. He was indeed brooding and mysterious and she would often catch herself staring at him, especially the scars on his face, much to her own annoyance. After a while, she would let her imagination get the best of her as she wonders what story hid behind each one.

The meal was truly a treat, having only a meal of broth and water for her light stomach the past few weeks Michonne was enjoying her duck. So impressed with the flavors she closes her eyes to savor the taste. A low moan escapes her lips as she relishes in the taste. Eugene can really cook and she reminds herself to make sure to tell him that.

Both men notice the low moan and reacted differently to this. Daryl began to clear his throat while Rick watched her in fascination; such a simple thing as her eating had already begun to stir things below his belt. Rick shifts in his seat and Daryl nearly chokes on his fowl when they heard another moan. It was soft, but they heard it as if it rang in their ears. Images of soft kisses between the crevices of her ear and neck cross both their minds. They simultaneously reach for their wine glass and take a gulp.

The _Bandit Hunter_ moves forward creating a calm lull in the air as they ate in silence; slowly that very same silence was getting to Michonne. After taking another sip from his glass Rick spoke, "What do you know about wolves, Ms. Brownfield."

Michonne's thoughts were somewhere else and she wasn't sure that what she heard was accurate, "I'm sorry what did you just say?"

Not so fond of wine and in the need of something stronger, Daryl reaches for his coat pocket behind his chair and pulls out a decanter, he was anticipating this conversation and felt it was good time for some brown liquor, "He said what you know about wolves." Daryl said after taking a drink.

Michonne wasn't sure if they were baiting her into crude conversation so she sighs and places her fork and knife calmly on her plate and slowly chews the fowl. She sits back in her seat comfortably before she spoke.

"I don't understand. What do mean by wolves? Are you saying you're a man with a ferocious appetite for women?"

Daryl in the middle of taking another swig of his decanter was indeed surprise by her response, spat out the heavy liquor and erupts in a fit of laughter. He was told by the rest of the crewmen how quick to give her opinion on everything Michonne was, and she was not shy in holding back.

"I'm so sorry," he picks up his napkin and wipes the liquid off his face and what was left on his shirt. "You know I was against bringing her onboard the _Bandit Hunter_ but I've changed my mind, she does not censor her words." Daryl continues to laughs, placing the napkin back on his lap and nabs the last Yorkshire pudding.

"That she does." Rick agrees as he stabs his piece of duck with his knife and places it in his mouth. Chewing slowly himself he studies her and wonders why he finds everything about her so stimulating, he barely saw her the past week or so but when he would it was always like fresh air.

"I'm surprise you can even speak Mr. Dixon."

The smile left his face Daryl first confuses then he was serious again, "What you mean? I'm not a mute, of course I can speak."

"In the few weeks I've been on this ship all you do is frown or scowl and the occasional grunts."

It was Rick turn to laugh and Daryl face turns an even brighter shade of red. He knows exactly what she meant as the realization of her honesty hits him, "Only with you Ms. Brownfield. I wasn't too partial on the idea of having a woman any woman on board, they bring bad luck."

Michonne frowns, "I didn't ask to be on board."

Still laughing Rick reaches for his pocket watch to look at the time it was getting late, "Do you know why I invited you on my airship Ms. Brownfield?"

"Hmm, more liked _taken_ sounds more fitting." She grumbles to the two men.

Rick had no idea she felt that way according to his conversation with Daryl and Abraham he was under the impression that she came on board willingly. Rick glares at Daryl only to have Daryl shrug his should as he takes another bite from his plate.

"I am very sorry you felt _taken_ Ms. Brownfield, I was under the impression that you came on board willingly.

Michonne sighs "Only because you promise to take me to the person who stole my father documents, it's been almost a month and I'm beginning to suspect otherwise."

"Suspect?" Rick was confused, "I've, we've kept our word."

Daryl nods his head in agreement, "We have and we nearly broke our necks prior in getting that parcel back there in New York too.

Michonne was as swift to reply in annoyance, she did not owe them anything, "That wasn't even half of my father's document. Besides I didn't ask for your help when I intercepted the thief. If you two had notice he had a black eye and bleeding from the lips, the situation was under control. I really didn't need anyone hanging off the Talmadge Bridge to retrieve it the very last second before getting trampled by horses, the guilt would kill me."

Daryl nod his head, "It was worth it." He then reaches over and gave Rick a heavy handed pat on his back, "Again thanks for saving yours and my ass back there. I thought that was truly the end of us." He then salute Rick and takes another swig. With his right hand Rick tip his glass to his best friend and finishes his drink.

Michonne stares at them in disbelief then in admiration.

It was a real blessing in disguise when Rick grasp for that last rung with his right and not his left hand. Rick looks down at his prosthetic hand, made from the finest steel each finger stationary, he turns his hand over and looks at each wires, they were connect to a piece wrapped around his wrist and the second piece the part that fully control the arm, wrist and fingers stopping short at his elbow. The hand was a gift from Earl, the world's best cybernetics engineer. It took some time to work the mechanics and a bit of training his brain, teaching himself to using his gun and sword all over again and especially the taxing time of getting used to being careful when formally meeting someone and not crushing their hand in the process. Michonne eagerly wants to know how he lost his hand but felt it was impolite to gossip with the crew about something so personal in the matters of their captain.

"I'd do it again in a heartbeat," Rick said. He then turns to face Michonne intensely staring at her, "It was worth it." It almost sound like he was saying she was worth it and it made her blush.

Michonne inhales as he continues to watch her. The air immediately getting thick. _How does he do that?_ She wonders; _It's as if he is thirsty and I'm his water._

Rick then smiles and she averts her eyes, looking to the portrait behind him which was of him, his son and a beautiful woman, she believe is, _was_ his wife.

"We get it Ms. Brownfield, you don't need our help but a well-educated woman such as yourself would know that if the dead can come back to life then why not share the world with werewolves too," Daryl said.

"The dead can be controlled once they figure out, upon death, to destroy the brain; it's not so bad now than how it was in the beginning but that was all before our time."

Daryl grunts a reply.

"You see, there's that grunting again Mr. Dixon. You're probably going to tell me mermaids exist too." Michonne retort playfully.

"They do but they are not as sweet as those scholars make them out to be."

They were getting off topic and Rick needs their undivided attention to the matter at hand, "Now Ms. Brownfield to answer your question; no, I am not one of those men, however I do enjoy the company of such beauty," Rick pause as he searches for a word that doesn't scandalize dinner conversation, "I enjoy your company very much, conversations so far with you are…"

Noticing his friend needing help, Daryl spoke up, "Stimulating Ms. Brownfield, Rick finds you and your conversations stimulating."

That was much worse as Rick frowns at Daryl's lack of tact and Michonne takes a sip from her wine glass to hide the smile on her face.

"Thank you Daryl for not really explaining anything for me."

Daryl gives him half of a smile before tapping his decanter in the air to him. Turning his attention back to Michonne he asks her if she knows anything about werewolves again.

Still thinking this was all a joke Michonne was not sure how to respond and yet two pairs of piercing blue eyes were watching her intently making the air heavy.

"I have heard of a person that shape shifts for periods of time into a wolf, usually when there is a full moon but, that is all a myth," she answers but then waves her hand in the air as if to pass the thought that something like that would actually be real.

Rick eyes the silver and black cane that rests comfortably beside her chair; it wasn't to assist in her gait but hidden within it was an actual weapon. With a quick tug from the top it is a sword and with the flick of the wrist it was a five chamber gun. He had Jesus fashion it for her. It reminds him of the one she used at the last Tournament of Dead months ago.

"You know I've seen you compete at the Tournament of Dead," Rick said

The Tournament of Dead was exactly that, two weeks fighting the dead; it was not for the weak or faint of heart. Held at night each opponent moving up by using their wit and strength as they battle the dead concluding with an obstacle course of sort in the woods, the last few standing are the winner. The winners get bragging rights for the year.

Michonne smiles proudly at that, "Not many women enter; I won at that tournament too."

"We know, congratulations. Heard one of your best moves was a two head split," Daryl said.

"Oh yes," Michonne said with glee and went on to tell Daryl how she did this move.

Rick watches the two chat as he tries desperately to avoid staring at her for too long.

Finishing her story she had to ask that one question that seems to tie their conversation together, "…And what does my winning the Tournament have to do with werewolves?"

Pushing his plate to the side Rick watches her intently for a moment then crosses his arm as he leans back into his chair again.

"We are looking for the same person. You're looking for the man that stole the last few of your father documents and I am looking for the man that kidnapped my son. This very same man is also a werewolf and we need your help."

A small _o_ forms on the woman lips, "Oh my God, so you both know what he stole?"

Both men nod their head.

"Is it true? Did you father find some sort of cure for finally keeping the undead dead?" Daryl inquires.

"I am not sure, I want to say yes, but we did not have the time or the means to fully run the tests. His lab was ransacked and everything was taken. How was your son kidnapped?"

"My son is very trusting; he gets that from his mother, may she rest in peace"

"May she rest in peace," Daryl repeated.

 _Much confession at the dinner table this evening_ , Michonne thought, she had wondered about his wife and felt it was best if anything about her would come up from Mr. Grimes and not from his crew.

"I must start from the beginning, Ms. Brownfield. The man we are searching, his name is Negan, and he goes by that now. Negan and I have a past so to speak. Before he became Pirate Negan I knew him as Sir Nicholas Brigham III, we were once school chums even went to the same flight school and he did not play by the rules always, taking risks. At first I was impressed with it, I was also young and very stupid. During a flight run he ran a risky turn and nearly got a few of us, including the Prime Minister's daughter killed. He was kicked out; we had a disagreement and we never spoke to each other since. Then, I heard rumors as the years went by that he was experimenting with things like wanting to live longer, stronger traveling to foreign lands; to the end of the earth. I was visiting friends in Alexandria when I accidently bumped into him. He invited me over to dinner and I thought to let bygones be bygones and accepted. Then, I saw him change and if Daryl had not arrived when he did I would not be sitting here in this room with you. I was hesitant in sending Carl to flight school but I wanted him to experience everything I did at his age but it seems the chums he hung out with were paid to lure him on his airship and here we are Michonne two days to a full moon and no closer to finding him."

Michonne was captivated by his story his voice soothing yet firm. He kept fidgeting with his pocket watch, kept removing and placing it back in his vest breast pocket. Since on his airship she has never seen him brush his hair even now the unruly curls are an adorable mess. She wants to reach out and adjust that one curl over his forehead. Michonne tightly clasps her hands together to stop herself. It was then that she decided not to give him grief and they should help each other out. Before she could say anything a loud bang on heard on his cabin door and it opens. Out of breath is the airship weapons expert Jesus as he enters the room.

"Rick I was able to locate _The Screams of Lucille."_

Both men stand and grab their gloves. Rick reaches for his bullet belt and gun, Daryl picks up his crossbow and exit the quarters quickly.

Jesus turns to Michonne, "Make haste, Michonne you'd want to see this."

 _Make haste to see what?_ She wonders as she grabs her cane and runs after the men.

Much activity was going on and Michonne ran passes the ship's crew as they crank and pull, she caught up to them as they had form a circle around the wheel of the steam power airship.

"What are we looking at?" Michonne ask having to shout over the noise as she adjusts her goggles over her eyes.

"Here," Jesus said and hands her the telescope. Looking through the glass she could see something ahead but not sure, Jesus slightly corrects her viewing angle and she saw another airship ahead.

"We are about four hundred meters from them, perfect range. We can take them out," Daryl shouts

"Have we formulated some kind of plan yet?" she shouts to the small group around her.

"We unleash hell of course," Daryl shouts back.

"No, we stick to the plan, Daryl," Rick replies as he places his gun belt around his waist and work the locks of the gun to his hand, making sure it was loaded.

"Well, what is the plan?" she shouts to them.

"We do nothing yet, we approach it at the current speed, I don't want to engage and somehow get my son killed," Rick explained.

"Rick you're thinking from your heart and not your head," Daryl began, "I understand, I really do but why can't we just send them some sort of warning, a message, let them know we are here."

"Guys!" Jesus shouts through the scope the pirate ship was beginning to turn on her side for battle, "I believe they are aware of us, we need to ready all stations now."

"Bloody hell!" Rick shouts in frustration, he has no choice put have the men at the ready, "Ready the stations."

Hell yes!" Daryl shouts back, "You heard the man Jesus, ready the stations."

"You don't have to tell me twice!" he then bellows this out and they watch as the crew ran to their battle stations. Jesus began to press several buttons and turns the helm a hard left. Michonne nearly lost her footing and stumbles into Rick.

"It may be wise, Ms. Brownfield, if you head back to your cabin."

"My cabin?! Are you kidding me, Grimes? I am not going to cower down below, I know how to work a gun, so hand me one of those." Michonne points to the endless arsenal Daryl seem to have.

Rick knew a while back not to try talking her out of anything so he hands her one of Daryl guns and two clips, "Do you know how to fire one of these?"

Michonne fastens her cane between her belt and takes the gun she instantly notice how light it felt in her hand as she looks at it in wonder.

"I know how to work a gun but this is-"

"Light isn't it but it packs a serious punch," Jesus said proudly. He then made a mental note to make Ms. Brownfield a gun and accessory belt.

Rick grins, while placing the clips in her hand, "This isn't one of those guns. Those clips are silver nitrate, there are twenty in each clip and you load them here," he points to the side of the gun, "It will open when empty and press this button on top for rapid fire."

"Silver nitrate?"

"I wasn't kidding, Ms. Brownfield, when I told you that he is a wolf; we are not taking any chances. It kills on impact. You see Negan you kill him."

"I don't know what he looks like."

"Trust me you can't miss him, he'll be carrying a metal baseball bat wrapped in barb wire."

Michonne did not have a chance to respond she saw a flash of light heading in their direction from the corner of her eye and she push both her and Rick out of the way.

* * *

 _Screams of Lucille_ was ready for battle and wasted no time in sending them a message. Sending hits and hits from their cannons towards them, their point of contact; taking out the bow and bridge but it was no easy task just as Negan suspected. The _Bandit Hunter_ fires back without delay and just as hard. Negan knew he underestimated Rick. He watches at the last second as another one of his men died at his feet, the silver oozes from the man eyes, nose and mouth. Negan eyes grew large. _Wow that was close,_ he thought as he rolls to the starboard of his ship, his anger getting the best of him as his hand tightens around the bat. _That fucking Rick got himself some silver_ , he thought, and he really couldn't blame the guy; Rick was always known to be prepared for almost anything. Negan smiles to himself, he knew he has to send a message and it need to be extremely loud.

"Bring up that fucking Grimes kid!" he shouts to no one in particular.

Dwight was closest to Negan and slightly wishes he wasn't. Negan shouts his command again this time looking directly at Dwight.

Dwight mentally shouts a curse as he hesitated for a second and hopes Negan didn't see it. Dwight ran down below nearly losing his footing at the bottom and goes to the last door, takes out the key and unlocks it.

"Carl?" he calls out in the dark cabin. Dwight has no reason to call out because he know the boy was where he is to be, in a chair blindfolded and tied to it. Again he hesitated but quickly shakes it off; he has a job to do.

"Hey kid, I'm really sorry it has come to this but." Dwight shrugs and begins to untie the knot from his feet but left the one to his hands alone, he then removes the blindfold and the younger Grimes scowls at him not saying a word.

Negan smiles when he saw Dwight lead and pull Carl as he dodges a stray fire beam.

"Hey there, my favorite future psychopathic guest. How you holding up?" Negan shouts enthusiastically, "Pardon the mess, your father has been working a number on both me and Lucille and quite honestly she and I just about had enough of your dad's fuckery."

Carl had that perpetual 'I'm going to kill you when I have the chance scowl' on his face.

"Still nothing, eh? Well no worries kid, you'll say something soon enough, I guaran-fucking - tee it."

* * *

 _The Bandit Hunter_ was taking a beating and Jesus had to shut down one engine before it explode midair; all the power was being overcompensated with the third as the second struggle to keep going. He shouts a warning to Daryl since he was the closes to him as he pushes a lever up hoping to buy them some time so he could see what was going on in the engine room.

"Go!" Daryl shouts at him as he takes aim and fire at the enemy.

Jesus points to the thermostat, "If this goes over this line, push this lever down."

"Got it, go already."

There was smoke coming from all directions and sound of the cannon and guns going off. Michonne can hear the crew below giving each other target coordinates before firing and those on deck had their gun on rapid fire. Michonne on her second clip was riding high on adrenaline. Both she and Rick have been taking turns 'saving' the crew and each other. Rick saw the look of excitement on her face as she took aim, fired and ducked for cover. He turns his attention back to the _Screams of Lucille_ and realizes that they had stop firing; the enemy ship has gone quiet.

 _What is he up to?_ Rick as himself as he took a peak from his spot the smoke in the air was heavy and it made it difficult to see.

"Rick what's going in? They stop firing," says Daryl in confusion as he looks his way.

"I don't know!" he shouts back. He takes his scope out and curses at the smoke to hurry and clear up. Slowly it began to settle and his heart stop and panic sets in.

"Tell everyone to cease fire! Do it now! Carl is with Negan!" Rick shouts as he continues to look through the scope. Rick can feel his heart beating rapidly as he watches Negan with a crazy smile on his face as his stand behind his son. Rick watches helplessly as the man raises his hand and slashes the right side of his son face, pieces of flesh on his hand, Negan laughs as he pushes his son away. It's almost like Rick could hear his son Carl scream in agony as held his face blood pooling down his hand.

"Carl!" Rick screams as he witnesses the tearing, the pain, and the helplessness as if it was his own flesh he felt being ripped.

Daryl, though concern for his friend just can't up and leave his station glances back down to the dials in front of him, the thermostat idle slowly to its mark and wonders what was taking Jesus so long. The crew were just as clueless and concern for their leader and wasn't sure what to do next as they stood there motionless.

Michonne closes to Rick runs up to him and drops to the floor facing him, "Grimes what it is?" She asks as she brushes the damp curls from his face. Concern as she watches the tears falls from his face Michonne waits for him to say something.

Jesus races back up to the ship deck glad for cease fire as things were critical in the engine room.

"WE NEED TO DOCK RIGHT-" Jesus stops mid-sentence as everyone stood around the ship mast watching their fearless leader fall into a crumpled mess in the arms of Michonne.

* * *

 _Code note – Siancore, thank you, having you look at my words and making sense of what my mind is trying to convey is no easy task and yet here you are still beta/commenting. Again, thank you! :)_

 _And for all those who are fav/following and reviewed H of S, (I hope you're still with me) – you are the best, thanks! :)_


	3. CH 2: When Doves Cry

Code note: **First and most importantly** – Siancore thank you for encouraging me to keep going and thank you for looking at my words and making sense of them. Forever hugs and love girl!

Thank you **ALL** for reading and reviewing, thank you for staying with me as I take you on this Richonne AU trip.

Each chapter title has no bases to what I am trying to convey here but rather the first song that plays at random when I start a new chapter.

If you haven't known this about me, 80s music and steampunk are just a few of many aesthetic of mine. The title and premise of this story came to me all in one year. First as a flash fanfiction challenge and then later in a **lucid** dream I had when I was craving a ciggie so bad when I quit smoking.

I am going to get somewhat technical and will try to be as detailed as I can with specific scene settings because there is not that many Steampunkers out there, however, if you are a lover of steam, reach out and let me know : ).

 **Finally** \- To readers that has ZERO care for Negan appearance and for those who stopped reading because of it: I do apologize right here and right now for the fact that Negan shudder/cringe is in this story, he's a dick plain and simple and I get it and I'm sorry to see you go : (

" **When Doves Cry"**

The good, the bad, and the seedy patrons below knew the promises of a perfect day, with skies in hues of bright blue and puffy white clouds and the sun kissing on their faces were a dime a dozen. The sky is bleak and dark as the battle rages on; the sound of the cannons can easily be compared to a thunderstorm. The very same patrons and owners below, they know better and steer clear of the street, they hurriedly seek shelter in the nearby businesses and pray debris from the heavens would do little to no harm on them. Not an everyday thing to witness sky battles so close to their homes and businesses but they have gotten use to life of flying battalions ships. The hour felt like an eternity but when the clouds finally did clear up, the patrons went about their day, no concern or care to what they had bear witness to. The owners assess the damages, writing everything down so they could take it to their local accessory office for credit.

 _ **The Scream of Lucille**_ had taken a hard hit and Negan is beyond irate, he grips the side of his ship as he gains even more distance and finally loses sight of _The Bandit Hunter_. The Saviors took this as a win but Negan knew better. This was not enough to break _the_ Rick Grimes, the thorn in his side for as long as he could remember. Negan had to scrimp as much as could on his own to get to flight school, it was his crowning moment and although he was popular and charming with everyone, especially with the ladies, they always seem to flock to Rick every time he walks in any social function.

They weren't even friends, but they hung around the same social groups. In his observation Negan noticed that Rick was strategic and fair; he was also smart, scoring well in every single class, becoming the teacher's pet without even trying. But for Negan, it was better that way; it helped him. To know the man you must study the man; to keep your enemies closer. And Negan has always known that Rick Grimes was competition and the enemy.

That is why he was so incensed, Negan has the money and power and yet he always wanted to know what Rick Grimes was up to. Sure, what he has done to the man's precious child may have crushed him, but not for long. Negan knew he was the one that lost today. He lost because now he has to work harder in maneuvering his next course of action carefully.

"Would you stop all that fucking screaming, it's just a scratch," Negan yells to Carl who was now a bloody mess on his beautiful ship, the sight had infuriated him even more. Tempted to just toss the boy overboard and be done with it was what he really wanted to do. Yet, even though the temptation was very strong indeed, he knew he would not.

Negan didn't have to turn to know if Dwight was near, he shouts to him to take the boy below and have the doctor fix the kid up. Then Negan grabs one of his nameless men by the collar; he was a big guy too but it didn't slow his insatiable hatred to kill someone. No offense was aimed at the man really, Negan kind of like the guy, well, not really. Okay, the man was hard working, did what was told to do but he should not have been walking by when he did, it was a lazy jaunt really, his poor baby Lucille was burning and the dickhead was 'strolling' by. It was that kind of right place wrong time or right place right time moment and so with one hand Negan threw the man overboard. Negan closes his eyes as he listens to the scream of death, a slow smile creeps up his face and sighs deeply. He felt a little better when the scream silences itself out and fades into nothing. Negan is now smiling happily and slowly begins to whistles a familiar tune; he places his dependable girl, Lucille the bat, over his shoulder and turns around to a shocked crew.

Negan smiles, sinister in every way, and then glares at his men, "Listen up! I did what I had to, we failed in taking that fucking ship down so 'Negan' had to go. We are not going to fail again. Now clean up this mess, I want my baby looking spotless."

Without breaking stride Negan walks away swinging his bat as he confidently struts toward his quarters.

Putting all of the boy's weight on him, Dwight carries Carl below, he turn to see Negan pick up Alex by one hand and threw him overboard and quicken his pace. Dwight shirt was soaked with the boy's blood by the time he got to Phillip's quarter. The ship doctor, very much use to blood and gore, was shocked to see the boy has been marked horrifically. Phillip, in haste, got the area ready with everything he would need. He quickly cleans and sanitizes his arms, hands and fingers and inspects the four deep gashes that began at the forehead and stopping at the boy's chin.

'Negan really went in deep' Phillip thought as he quickly got working.

Dwight could only stare at the bloody sight; 'a piece of skin hanging from Carl's face, pieces of cartilage, fuck is that cartilage, or muscle, holy shit. Okay Dwight, keep it together' but Dwight could taste the bile in the back of his throat and swallows a few times.

The doctor barks orders for Dwight to snap out of it twice and help hold the screaming boy down so he could clean and numb the area. Phillip must have injected Carl five maybe six times before he finally quietened down, his breathing even as he slept. He then asked Dwight what happen for Negan to mark him. He listens to Dwight go on a series of rants on the air raid first before answering his question. The doc worked slowly and carefully, he figured three mill nanobytes can help repair some of the tissue damage, but he ended up using eight. This was going to cost him and set him back as he was going to use it in his next trade. But by the expensive clothing the boy wore he knew he did not have much to worry.

Phillip stops to add more sealing compound agent and curse a few times as he got near the eye, flushing as much of the blood out, he had managed to save the eye but only time would tell if the boy will have sight. Sealing the last stitch at the forehead, Phillip stood back to stretch and sigh; the nanos were still working on the chin area. Phillip ignores the bloody gloves and pours them both a drink, he silently hopes the scarring would be minimal, but knew better; it was not going to fade. Negan is trifling and arrogant and had purposely scarred the boy for life.

 _ **The Bandit Hunter**_ is a smoking mess. Daryl hoists his crossbow across his shoulder to put out a small fire near him. His thoughts are all over the place, not knowing where Negan took off to since they had to land. Could they have risked it and continue to chase him or let the engines go and they plummet to their death? Shit, Daryl had no plans of dying anytime soon so he opted for the lesser. Jesus tries to make sense to what happened and takes over for Daryl. Jesus was able to get communications working; he calls for help from a few friends who owe him a favor. He fist pumps the air when The Family Williams of the Manors of Alexandria grant him permission to dock and make repairs on _Bandit Hunter_. Upon docking, he and the crew watch an emotionally broken Rick taken below by Michonne.

Thirty plus pairs of eyes follow the scene before them. They wait until they saw the back of Michonne's head disappear before turning to face Daryl and Jesus. Daryl, not use to Rick doing most of the talking for the both of them, was stuck in a delicate predicament of actually having to speak to the crew on their next course of action. Jesus wasn't much of a public speaker, either. They all watched and waited for Daryl to say something as he stood in silence.

"I need a drink," Daryl mumbles under his breath while rubbing his forehead with his fingers in frustration. He thinks for a moment before facing what was left of their crew.

"Look, I ain't gonna sugar coat nothing. We have until the next full moon, a complete cycle before Carl becomes a were', and he is gonna turn so what now? We don't know where that asshole Negan went. So I am opening the floor for any suggestions."

The crew mumbles among themselves.

"Well, we need to tend to the wounded and make sure the dead stay dead and have a right and proper burial for the sad lot,"one suggested.

"Yeah, then we find the nearest pub and wet our lips with something strong and maybe we can come up with something," another crew member added. The crew was all nodding their heads with vocal agreement to that idea too.

"Tend and bury is a good idea. Abe pick a few to help you. As much as I would love to get drunk right now that doesn't really help the cause," Daryl shouts back to the crew

"Hold on Daryl, that is not bad idea," Jesus move closer to him and whisper, "This place is crawling with seedy desperate types, we just need to find the right seedy type who'll talk to us."

"Where are we again?"Daryl whispers back.

Jesus gives him the coordinates and the location.

 _*Somewhere in Virginia and close to the sea*_

"You know, with the right amount of money and liquor, things can move along quickly. Someone-"Daryl nod his head as he slowly strokes his beard.

"Someone will always talk," Jesus completes the sentence.

Daryl claps Jesus hard on the back and faces the crew again.

"This is what we are going to do. We are going to tend to the wounded, make sure the dead stay dead and send them home to their love ones. We will do that right and proper. We are also going to fix the damages to the _Bandit_ and then I am going to buy all of you a drink."

The _Bandit_ crew cheers in the anticipation in agreement and the ship was a buzz as they all got busy at the new task at hand.

Below in Rick's quarters, Michonne stares off into space; her cane was placed by the side of his bed, their guns are on the dining table where their meal sat, cold and long forgotten. This is bad she thought as she chews on the bottom of her lip. They were both on Rick's bed; the scene could be seen as scandalous considering his head is in her lap and she is running her fingers through his curls in a soft, gentle and comforting motion. It was all she could do really to help soothe as much of the pain away in silence. They have a full cycle of the moon before Carl turns and they all knew he would turn. There was a solution, but it was a stretch: if they can find something or someone that can reverse the effect, black magic maybe, then Carl would be spared.

She wondered a moment about how Negan was able to control the savage beast within, maybe it is controllable. Michonne adjusts Rick head on her lap so that she can get comfortable on his bed; she rests her back to the wall with a heavy sigh and continues to massage Rick's scalp.

Rick psyche was a whirlwind of emotions; he was sad and angry, and hellbent on revenge. He was already planning their next course of action on finding and killing that asshole but slowly his concentration was broken and he began to relax.

Everything that was happening has everything to do with Michonne and what her fingertips were doing. The soothing effects were the perfect company his thoughts needed. Rick is always aware of Michonne's presence, he has never shied away from the fact that he was watching her. He enjoys watching her and he has caught her watching him too. Michonne doesn't have to be near; he could just take a whiff of jasmine, lavender or lemons and she is there or nearby. Jasmine and lavender was her fragrance of choice because of their calming effect.

He would often ensure that the scents were in Jesus' room, where Michonne often sipped tea and read. He liked to watch her nestled by a window enjoying her book, beverage and the aromas he had procured for her.

He also loved to watch her chew on the bottom of her lip when heavily in her reading or when she is deep in thought. Rick is a man of few words, but he had plenty to say every time she was near to the point of wanting her to nibble on his lips instead.

Rick inhales and takes in her wondrous scent and slowly opens his eyes and he was glad he did. He looks up at her face and once again everything about her, her beauty and goodness her presence was the reassuring comfort he craved. He finds that he is hopeful, despite all that has happened. Michonne's mind was elsewhere; she sighs deeply and looks down to see Rick watching her intensely again. Rick wants to kiss her and wonders if she would let him return the favor, let him touch her in the same way she is touching him; possibly more. Feeling like she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar Michonne's fingers stops mid stroke and she slowly removes her fingers from within the soft curls.

"Michonne?"

"Yes, Rick," she whispers his name, it was not Grimes or sir, it was Rick and Rick closes his eyes and relishes in the moment.

"Say it, say my name again."

Michonne couldn't breathe as she felt this heat spreads throughout her body and stops between her legs, she could feel it pulsing as she calls out his name again and watches as Rick reaches out to her and caresses her face. He was about to say something when they are interrupted by a knock.


	4. CH 3: American Boy

" **American Boy"**

Rick sighs as he sits up he rakes his hand through his hair, frustrated annoyance written on his face, despite the raging hard on he was sporting. He was about to get really honest with Michonne. He had it all planned out; first tell her his thoughts, how in that short moment of witnessing his son being marked and feeling lost. Just that small act of comfort she had given him was the sign he needed to get ready for war and get his son back.

Rick had wanted to kiss her too. He was still contemplating kissing her, but as quickly as he lifted his head Michonne was up from his bed and standing off to one side of his room. She crossed her arms, hugging herself, with a small frown on her face, he frowns at this display; did he misread her earlier? It looked like she wanted some things to happen between them too.

' _Shit. I am really bad at this. Could she possibly only be comforting me because she saw my tears? I just saw my son practically get the side of face ripped off; I hate feeling lost but I'm not anymore and it's because of Michonne,'_ he thought.

First, she was consoling him, then the air had shifted and she saw a bit of carnal desire in his eyes. It both excited her and alarmed her. Did she want to start something with him? She did not want to be anyone's grief cushion, temporary fix or distraction. Michonne has been on the ship long enough to know that Grimes likes things done a certain way. He does not care about personal spaces, well maybe just her space for that matter. He does things with intense urgency and by his own rules.

What Michonne needed was a mental distraction, to calm her nerves, to get the scent and nearness of him out from her mind and settle the growing want between her legs. She thought back on the time they have met.

 _The three had met under the most unusual circumstances and Michonne remembered it like yesterday. If was a few days after she won the Tournament of the Dead, her mother was glad the whole show was over, not because she was worried something bad would happening to her only daughter but because finally Michonne would stop wearing those awful pants outfits and dress more like a lady, find a suitor, get married and give her grandbabies. All in that order._

 _It was a busy morning her parents were invited to some grand showing and they were the guests of honor and Michonne had gotten back from a stroll around their city park with a neighbor friend her mother paired her up because the man's father was a doctor and he was studying to become a lawyer, a handsome fellow; Mike Anthony, he was attentive and charming and said the right things._

 _Upon her return her mother stopped her from getting something sweet to eat and showsher to her room. This was when she caught a glimpse of a very handsome and dark finger shaking his father's hand. After a moment, she noticed it was a prosthetic hand that shook her father's as they exit from her his study. But while her mother was busy telling her about the dresses she picked out and the combs on the heat,Michonne was not listening; she was busy watching the man at the front door who was with her 's not so often White folks called on The Brownfield home and she was interested to know what they were talking about. The man then looks back up at her, smiles wickedly at her and then tilts his top hat at to her in acknowledgement and then left. She had not know that she held her breath when he smiled at her until she exhaled._

 _They met again while she was chasing a thief; Michonne and her parents were on their way to dine with family friends. Her father forgot his spectacles, and Michonne gladly went to retrieve them from her father's lab, which was an apartment connected to their home. When she entered the lab, she happened upon a thief going through her father's belongings. The thief was shoving some of her father's documents into his coat._

 _She had picked up a paper weight and threw it at him hitting him right in the head, knocking his bowler cap off and displaying a head full of blonde hair. The impact from the object had stunned him at first, but then he took off running. Hiking up her dress she gave chase. Michonne knew chasing after him in a tight bodice dress and laced heel shoes that she has yet to break in was no easy task. She knew she was going to lose him at the corner of the busy streets and shouts in frustration when she collides into a passerby. He was the man she saw at her home the other day. He wasn't alone and his companion went chasing after the thief, he came back a few minutes later frowning in frustration letting them know the obvious, that he was long gone. It was then he, Rick Grimes, made the introduction for himself and for Daryl Dixon._

There was another knock at his door. Michonne blinks a few times to refocus.

' _If it was Daryl he'd not have knocked and entered without permission,'_ Rick thought.

He was about to bark a go away but then Michonne shouts permission for entry and Rick gives her an exasperated look. She half smiles then shrugs her shoulder at him.

It was Daryl and Aaron, their charts and navigational guide. Daryl looks wound up about something whereas Aaron was appearing amused. Daryl shoves his goggles on to his head and removes his gloves and shoves them into his back pocket.

"Found a place to dock to make repairs. Got the crew properly killing the dead too. The Williams siblings are on board. Seems like this Tyrese and Jesus went way back. They are both below working on the gears; it's a mess down there. His sister, Miss Williams, and his school chum from way back in the day who, goes by King Ezekiel now, are also on board," Daryl explained.

Aaron nods his head excitedly, "Yep! Both Miss Williams and King Ezekiel are both on deck, and I just want you both to know that this guy is riding a tiger and the beast is huge, like, can carry three people huge."

"A tiger?" Rick and Michonne respond simultaneously, the shock and surprise apparent on both faces.

"That is what I said, a tiger and I think it has fiber optic eyes, I want to get a closer look but the King stopped me, warn me that he needed to introduce us first," Aaron said in glee.

"Has Jesus tried to get a hold of Father Gabriel or Tara and her companion Denise?" asked Rick. It would be rude if Rick does not send word that he was in the area; they were the only friends he had really associated himself with and they too wished to know more of The Williams.

"I don't think so Cap. I will ask him," Aaron raises a rolled paper in his hand, "So Daryl thought maybe he and a few others are planning on doing a bit of recon of the area and see what is out there."

He was referring to Negan.

"Is that a map of the area?" Michonne asks.

Aaron nods his head, "Yeah, Miss William gave it to me."

Making space on Rick's desk they watch as both Daryl and Aaron mark their current position and the possible direction they think Negan would dock.

"I don't think Negan has gone far, they had severe damages too," Daryl points out possible locations on the Alexandria, Virginia map, the areas marked were vast, but the crew was not disheartened. Rick was busy marking the local areas of forage and homes.

So deep in thought they all were that they did not hear the singing at first, but it slowly became louder as it got near.

"I've seen what you have made in all its beauty, what I cannot create I recognize. Let's watch the night explode," the voice sang loudly and beautifully. 

Rick and Michonne both look up at each other and then face Daryl and Aaron.

"That would be Miss Williams, apparently she went to see a show with some friends and that particular song has been stuck in her head and she has been singing it for two days now," Aaron answered.

Daryl became thin lip and slightly irritated by all the other new activity on the ship. Miss Williams had stopped him and asked him what kinds of things they did on the ship; she mentioned that with a bit of cleaning it would be perfect for a party. It's a battalion airship not a party ship. In that instant Daryl felt trapped and wanted to do was get off the ship, be out there, scouting and searching and not be some ship director or some shit like that for anyone.

Michonne finding all this familiar and easily relatable began to tell them both of the song that was stuck in her head for two weeks. It had not words just sort of strings and melodies. The darn thing had caused so much grief in her family household. Her laughter being so infectiousness both Rick and Aaron were laughing right along with her.

"I must meet her and introduce myself before she thinks I am rude," Michonne said between breathe.

"And King Ezekieltoo," Rick adds in agreement.

"Well, I am so glad you three are finding this all amusing," Daryl retorts.

Michonne stops laughing and looks at Daryl, "Oh for goodness sakes, Dixon; it can't be all that bad, this is probably what you need, another woman to evenly disrupt the flow of a ship."

Daryl rolls his eyes, "Right, because one was just not enough."

"You know, we are not that far from Maryland, I have friends I know that live in that area. Huge, huge fans of air ships, they would go crazy over all this, especially with you Dixon. I can call them up?" Michonne asks, she was clearly teasing him.

Daryl was near a state of panic, "You know just when I was about to like you, you go and say something like that. Are you listening to this shit Rick, what the hell, this is not a sorority soiree."

"I really cannot tease you at all?"

"No!" Daryl hollers back.

Sensing that now would be the perfect time to conclude their conversation Rick rolls the map back up and hands it to Daryl, "Message received, take a few of your very best and make contact every hour."

Aaron gathers up the rest of the maps and leaves the quarters. Daryl mock salutes Rick, frowns at Michonne and left soon after, leaving Rick and Michonne alone once again.

"I hope I didn't upset him," Michonne said apparent concern on her face.

"Who? Daryl? Don't let it bother you, Daryl can feel a bit caged. The minute he gets this way he takes off," Rick says reassuringly.

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment then Michonne reaches for her weapon and heads for the door.

"Michonne, stay a moment." It was a simple request from him and yet it spoke volumes. Michonne turns and faces him.

Rick approaches her and stops a few inches from her.

"Thank you," he says.

Michonne plays it off and tells him not to worry about it. Rick did not miss the sudden act of indifference and it only made him move in closer towards her. Michonne tries to focus on something other than that, like say,his penetrating gaze on her instead.

"You don't need to thank me," Michonne had spoken barely above a whisper.

Everything Michonne tried to do, like focus on anything but how close he is to her went right out the window. She wasn't so eager to leave his quarters. This was almost euphoric. She likes him near her and was waiting for a hint a sign and she would stay.

"I wasn't sure what would happen next, I saw my son get attacked and felt lost," Rick sighs."Back there on the bed, what you were doing, I felt your touch and I knew. It took just your womanly touch and I don't feel so lost anymore Michonne."

Michonne place her hand over Rick's and gives it a squeeze, "It's okay Rick, we have all witnessed so much in the past few months. You can't do this alone. We are here for you," Michonne pause, "I am here…For you and anyone who needs my help."

Michonne watches Rick inhale and exhale slowly. He eyes her, his gaze falls down to her lips; he was so dangerously close and the mere thought alone got her excited. Any lower now and she would kiss him back but then Rick takes a step back from her.

"Don't we have guests to meet?" he asks.

Michonne was confused by the question, _'Who? What guests? What just happened here?'_ Michonne thought.

"Yes," Michonne hesitantly responded more focused on the shared moment broken, "Yes, we have guests."

Rick saw the disappointment in her face and he should have taken the leap. The opportunity was lost now because Michonne was already standing at the door.

"Hold on a second," Rick calls out to her. He walks over to the table to grab his belt and fashion it around his waist."Best **we** get this over with then."

Michonne says nothing to the ' _we'_ part and yet she was thinking about it, "That's fine with me."

He opens the door to his quarter and waits for Michonne to exit first and he follows closely behind her.

Jesus formally introduces The William siblings as the co leaders of a small community just outside of Alexandria. But since the Alexandrian community recently lost their leader, they ask if The Williams could help them out and they gladly accept. Rick thanks them for granting them permission to dock on their property, he ask if they have met Father Gabriel, Tara and Denise and they said that they had not. It turns out, he had just missed them; Father Gabriel has gone off on a sabbatical while Tara and Denise were invited to a seminar.

"It's really nice to know forward thinking men who don't feel threatened or fantasize at the thought of strong women keeping each other company romantically," Ms William said as she looks around the ship.

The deck was quiet as both Rick and Jesus just looks at her to Daryl endless fits of coughing and Michonne silence.

"We have always been forward thinking men," Rick retorts.

Tyrese felt it was good idea turns introduce The King since he was more of his friend. It will take some getting used to old Renaissance English spoken by King Ezekiel as he sits on top his pet tiger Shiva who, surprisingly, took an instant liking to Michonne. She was busy talking to the giant tiger like it was a kitten to The King amazement and wonder.

"Oh how I wish my wife was here to see this," he said, she thinks Shiva doesn't like anyone. This says otherwise." Michonne laughs because Shiva nudges at her hand to continue rubbing at her tummy.

Michonne looks up at The King, "Can I ride her?"

"Indeed, as she'll allow you upon her. Have you ever ridden a horse?" asks the King.

Michonne nods her head. The King steps back and lower his hand to his knees, Shiva went down on all fours and watches quietly as Michonne hooks one foot in the stirrups, hoists herself up and swings her leg over.

Being this high up Michonne,felt like she towers over everyone like lord and leader; she suddenly understands why The King enjoys being this high. Michonne waits for the next command. The King was silent for a second, staring at Shiva momentarily,and then Shiva takes off.

Everyone, including the crew, watch as the tiger takes off in a run and leaps over the deck of the ship, landing beautifully on the stairs leading up and down the ship; he was gone in a blink of an eye.

Rick faces The King, "Where are they going?"

"A quick run around The William property, they'll be back in a few minutes," The King put to his eyes, "I can see everything, Ms. Brownfield is an excellent rider, as a matter of fact she is asking Shiva to run faster."

Rick was concerned for Michonne at this point; he looks back out at the property line of The Williams, "Don't do anything where she goes flying off your tiger."

The King swore on Ms. Brownfield's safety and as promised, both Michonne and Shiva returns a moment later.

Excited from that short ride, Michonne gets off the tiger, "That was amazing, I felt so free." She rubs Shiva on the forehead, "Thank you."

Shiva roars loudly.

"She really does like you," The King points out.

"As she should, everyone likes me," Michonne smiles, and glances at Rick when she said that. Everyone notices but says nothing.

Tyrese leans into his sister, "Don't even think about it saying anything." He whispers.

Sasha chuckles and whispers back, "I was about to, but changed my mind. I like her too and I don't want to embarrass her."

Once getting everyone focused, Rick and Daryl explain how and why they are in this predicament. Both Tyrese and Sasha offer their help; The King himself sent word to have his very best aide them in any way they can. Rick was very much appreciative to any and all help they gave him.

It took longer than expected to rebuild and properly calibrate the gears since the parts weren't readily available, but they all were able to get everything in working condition. _The Bandit Hunter_ was like new again.

On a windy morning, the sendoff for the fallen, Rick stood at the bow of the ship giving his speech Michonne watches, again his slightly dishevel appearance adding to that whole unintentional dark and sexy that works for him. His beard was longer, as was his hair; his curls were being blown about, but it doesn't distract him. Rick's speech is clear, driven and focused; they all found it very inspiring. The silver in his prosthetic hand glistens in the sunlight as he held the glass high above his head. Everyone raised their glasses, as he did; they toast the fallen and finally down the warm whiskey in one go.

Michonne continues to watch Rick as he whispers something to Daryl, wondering what he said to him as they both left the wheel of the ship; he was eyeing her as he walked away.

"I see the appeal," Sasha whispers as she moves to stand next to Michonne, "The man has everything, and brooding works for him too. I can see why he is a great leader."

Michonne chuckles as Sasha continues.

"He has this air of mystery to him, he lost his hand and wife, almost five years ago; son kidnapped by a werewolf madman and he still manages to do a send off for the fallen with one hell of a speech. Sure, the tone is dark and spoke of death for many, but he has inspired us. Even I am willing to go to war with him."

"That Grimes, great leader, has a crew that respects him," Michonne says.

Sasha smirks at Michonne, "Yes, brooding is charming; you'd just want to cradle a man like that between your bosoms after a long day and run your fingers through those curls of his."

Michonne did not miss the way Sasha was watching Daryl while speaking. She watches her new friend, who in just a week since _The Bandit Hunter_ docked on their property, managed to stir things up. Amost everyone on the ship, Michonne included, did not mind the change of pace very much.

"Wow, you really aren't taking the bait," Sasha muttered under her breathe but Michonne heard her.

"What bait you speak off?" Michonne ask, "I'm listening to you but you're over there wanting to take a bite out of Mr. Dixon."

"If I am overstepping then by all means stop me but you and Mr. Grimes," Sasha pauses, "Something is clearly there, I have seen the way he looks at you. The man can glare the hell out a person, myself included, but he saves these looks of need and want all for you. If there wasn't an audience, he would have you right here bent over and all."

Michonne laughs, "Sasha why are you so bold, so crass?"

Sasha stops them both, "Because I can be but I am still a lady and I don't want to take a bite out of Mr. Dixon, yet," Sasha playfully said while eyeing Daryl again.

"They are all going to the pub later; I think Mr. Dixon is going too, supposedly he's buying everyone a drink."

Sasha gently tugs on Michonne arm and smile brightly, "We can tag along, of course, and that is unless you have other plans that include the fearless brooding leader."

Michonne was thoughtful for a moment.

Sasha raises a brow, "No, that is okay, take care of him, he looks like he has an insatiable appetite anyway."

"We haven't even -."

Sasha stops Michonne from saying anything more as she eyes Daryl from the corner of her eyes, "Soon enough, it'll happen soon enough, I'll just have Mr. Dixon escort me this evening," she made sure to say that last part loud enough for him to hear.

Daryl stops mid walk and faces them both, the look on his face was of complete annoyance. Sasha was not in the least bit hurt or put out by his mannerism or that perpetually annoying look that always seemed to be the face of Daryl Dixon.

Daryl purses his lips together and adjusts his weapons and maps from one hand to the next, "I'm sorry, what?"

"I was just telling Miss Brownfield since she was going to be indisposed that you should be the one to escort me to this pub this evening," Sasha explains.

Daryl squints his eye, "Do you see me having the time to escort anyone anywhere? Ask someone else."

"I will not," Sasha exclaims, "You are going to the bar aren't you?"

Daryl grunted a yes.

"Mr. Dixon, it is extremely rude not to escort a woman out and about in the dark for fear of her safety. Besides I asked you, I don't see anyone else," Sasha quickly replies.

Daryl sighs deeply.

' _What in hell is her angle can't she just ask what plans I have this evening instead all of this,'_ Daryl thought as he looks around the busy ship and raises his hand to say otherwise, Michonne couldn't help laughing, this was all too much for her but turns it into a fit of coughs and gaze aimlessly away when Daryl frowns at her.

"Miss Williams, I have seen you taking the dead out from a mile away with that ray-rifle of yours, I have complete faith in you taking care of yourself," Daryl replies back to her and then began to walk away.

"Unbelievable," Sasha mutters under her breathe, she place her hand on her hip, "Dixon!" She shouts, "Do you want to go for a drink with me or not?"

"See how easy that was," Daryl says as he stops mid walk again and face them again with a grin on his face; "We leave at dusk. Be ready and dressed for the cold air, nothing fancy," Daryl eyes her weapon, "Jesus is better equipped and will give you something lighter but just as deadly."

Daryl turns back around but once again he is stopped by Sasha, "Oh my God, what is it now?"

Sasha makes a circle around her face, "You may want to wash up before we head out."

Michonne bursts out laughing but covers it with another set of coughing; Daryl responds by raising his hand in the air as he walks away.

Later that evening Michonne, was lazily opening and reading letters from home in her cabin, enjoying the scones Eugene laid out for her with her tea. She was on her third scone feeling a tiny bit guilty of relishing in the lemon drizzled almond flavored treat, when she glances over the parcel her mother sent her. Ripping it open, she picks up the letter attached to the invitation, skims over her mother cursive handwriting and frowns. She glances at the invitation with the detailed masquerade mask on the front and flips the envelope over. The invitation was being held by a tied ribbon. Michonne had to give it to her mother for being dramatically classy.

She had just spoken to her mother a day ago and not once did she mention anything about having a masked ball for her. Michonne knew it was yet another one of her mother's ploys to get her to marry and have children. She pulls the black satin ribbon apart and stops from opening it when she hears a knock at her cabin door.

Not bothering to look up as she already knew who it was, "Come in Rick."

"How did you know it was me?" Rick asks upon entering her room.

"You have a very heavy handed knock. You can try to change it but I will always know it's you; that and the way you walk too, that is also very heavy."

Rick rests all his weight to the right, "That's because I have places to go, necks to snap, dead to kill, love ones to saveand still be back here to see you."

' _Oh he is good.'_ Michonne chuckles.

"The life of a leader," Michonne adds.

Rick observes Michonne at her desk, she had her well-toned legs up and crossed on her desk. The scone, he noticed, was half eaten on her plate. He briefly thought about the fact that Eugene is really spoiling her; he doesn't even treat Rick this good. Michonne leans forward to pick up her cup and place it to her lips. Sensing something was troubling her, Ricks walks further into the room, practically towering over her and asks her what is wrong. With the cup still at her lip, Michonne hands him the letter and the invitation.

Rick reads the letter, 'hmm this might be a problem' he thought. He hands the letter back to her and looks at the invitation and flips it over, the ribbon holding the invitation was open.

"May I?" he asks

"Go ahead; I have seen so many of her invitations to know that the dates would be sometime soon or soonish."

Rick confirmed it, "Oh yeah, it's pretty soon." He hands it back to her.

Michonne sighs and places the invitation back on the desk. "I'll have Jesus get me a secure line so I can call her and regretfully decline the invitation and then resign myself to that fact that I'll have to be reminded about it, among other things, for the rest of my life."

"You can still go, I'll have one of my men escort you, not Eugene!"

"What's wrong with Eugene, he is so sweet and his desserts are to die for."

"Just don't like how close he is to you."

Michonne talks to everyone on the ship; Daryl, Jesus, Abe, _everyone_ and yet Rick chooses the guy that can soothe her sweet tooth to have a problem with. Michonne was also annoyed that he was giving her permission to leave his ship too. Michonne doesn't need anyone's permission to go anywhere and then for him not bothering to offer to escort her himself, was rude. She instantly felt bad for thinking that last part because this wasn't a holiday, but a rescue mission and obtaining documents that were rightfully hers, well her father's, but all the same.

Michonne places her feet on the ground, "Well, thank you so very much for allowing me to leave your precious steel chrome flying machine."

"Wait a minute, what did I do, I am simply helping you. What happened?" Rick was clearly confused.

"A masquerade ball happened," Michonne said.

"Your mother sounds caring, a bit overbearing but whose mother isn't. My mother is constantly under me about settling down. Every visit, she would express time and time again that one grandson isn't enough, how she was getting older and just about everything you can think off to guilt the hell out of me. It is always a joy to see Daryl squirm in her presence when she talks about him too."

"Our mothers should meet. Where is your father in all this?"

Rick laughs, "Hiding away in his study.

"Yes, my fathe is always hiding away too."

"Go, please your mother, have a good time and then come back. I'll make all the arraignments for you," Rick pauses thoughtfully, "Jesus loves those sort of things but so does Abe, you can go with either of them, hmm, maybe both. You know, just in case anything happens I'll have Martinez go with you as well."

Michonne shoves her gloves on then reaches for her sword and push herself off from her chair she was now facing him, "Rick!"

Feeling pleased and that more confident that he has figured everything out for her while still managing to keep her safe at the same time, Rick did not hear his name being call out for the second and then third time, "Hmm?"

"Would you please stop?"

Michonne could tell Rick was confused by the request and further explained, "Would you please stop telling me what I should do."

Then it registers on Rick's face, "I'm sorry. I forgot. I remember you saying something about you taking care of yourself. I know you can but hear me out, okay?"

Michonne says nothing and that was good enough for Rick to continue, "I promise not to tell you what to do after all this is over; I would love to take you but I am needed here and it would make me feel better knowing you're safe with a few of my men in attendance at your ball."

Michonne did not miss his reference to _after all this is over_ ; but for now, for the time being, she would just let him do this for her, this **one** time. She also found it endearing to know that he wanted to take her.

"Fine," she said.

Standing just arms length from one another, Rick notices that she has changed her outfit from when last he saw her; that morning, to be exact. Her goggles were rested comfortably on her head. He takes in the blouse and the very formfitting deep red corset tucked in her tight dark pants. He wasn't sure where her pants end and where her boots began; they were both dark and hugged everything beautifully.

"Going somewhere?" he asked

As a matter of fact she was going somewhere; Michonne needed a break off the ship so she had asked Jesus if she could join whatever plans he had for the evening, which was visiting a few friends at The Kingdom, the home of King Ezekiel. It sounding appealing to Michonne and Jesus said yes. She tells Rick her upcoming plans for the evening as Rick approaches her, standing mere inches from her.

"You know, I came here to ask if you would like to have dinner with me tonight but I think I may have missed my opportunity," Rick said.

For the past week they have always shared a meal with a big group of people, consisting of Daryl, the Williams siblings; the King and Jesus would sometimes share a meal with , thethought of the two of them dining together would be so nice.

"Oh."

"I am not going to say anything," Rick said with a small smile on his face as he raises his hand in the air, "I swear."

Yet he is still so close to her; she watching in silence as he ever so boldly removes both the goggles from above her head and the jacket that was draped around her arm and tosses them on the chair behind her.

' _He is really good at getting in my space like that'_ Michonne thought as her senses were once again filled with everything Rick Grimes again; his nearness, his natural scent and aftershave. ' _Wait a minute, aftershave'_ , she thought suddenly; Rick had shaved and he combed his hair. ' _Wow, how could I miss that? I had no idea.'_

Michonne reaches out and gently caresses his clean shaven face. This was the first time she has touched him since that day of battle in the sky and it excites her, "It looks good, you really look good, younger in fact. I like it"

Rick inhales at the contact and he felt he wants to be as honest with her as possible, "And you are beautiful, Michonne. From the moment we met back in the foyer of your parents home, I wasn't sure how I was able to leave without crossing that threshold again and speaking to you,"

Rick hesitates for a just a second, "I felt I haven't seen you at all this week. I miss you Michonne," he says this while pulling her gently in his arms.

Michonne knew what was happening as she listens to each word that was coming from his lips. Rick was moving closer and lowers to her lips, noting the change in his breathing, it was both hot and heavy. His eyes kept switching from her eyes to her lips and back again. Rick was pressed right up against her now and she felt every inch of him, especially how hard he was at this point. Michonne closes her eyes and slowly exhales as she open her eyes again, the heat between her legs was beginning to pulse and she couldn't wait any longer, she wanted him.

He was about to say something so Michonne place one finger on his lips to silence him; her other hand were already playing with the curls at the nape of his neck, "Rick, what I want for you to do right now before you ruin it is to kiss me."

Rick smiles but doesn't give in to her request just yet; he is caught up in her beauty as he gazes in her brown eyes.

So it was Michonne to lean forward and kiss him on his lips. It was not soft or gentle, it was hungry and loud; Michonne's moan was the invitation Rick needed. With her mouth partly opened, their tongues mingle freely with each other.

 _Oh god_ , he thought, _she tastes so good_.

This was the kind of kiss they both needed; one with all of their senses being woken. Michonne's fingers were caressing the back of his neck and then once again entwined in his curls, pulling him deeper in the kiss. Rick was hungry for more as he closes what little space they had between them. Rick puts his weight all on her as he pulls her into a tighter embrace. He immediately reaches down and cups her ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he grinds into her. His prosthetic hand, having a mind of its own, was caressing up the lines of her back, its fingers playing with the laces at the back of her corset. It's been a while Rick has undone hooks and laces and contemplated ripping the thing off her.

He felt her legs wraps around him and Rick growls and breaks away from the kiss, both were heavily panting. Knowing exactly who and what he wants, he carried Michonne to bed. Rick did not slow down once he had her on her bed. Sensing his impatience, she stopped him, reached around her back and undid the ribbon herself. Once that was done, it was easier to remove her corset. After it was off, she reaches down to remove her blouse from her pants and lifts it over her head. Rick wasn't in the mood for finesse as he was nearly undressed himself; with his boots removed, he stood above her and slipped out of his pants.

Michonne was in the middle of kicking off her boots when she caught sight of Rick's naked and very firm body. Her eyes wandered over his form and stop at his erect dick. Rick was watching her too, from her taunt stomach to the raised nipples on her breasts. He looks up to see her watching all of him. She seductively bit the corner of her lip while holding his gaze and that sent him into overdrive. She takes her boots off quickly only to have him remove her pants for her. Rick lay down above her and gazes into her eyes; it has been a long time for him.

"Michonne, I am not going to be nice about it," it was a form of an apology but she didn't care.

"Don't be," she responded; she wasn't looking for nice either.

Rick pulls her closer to him and told her to wrap her legs around him, he inhales deeply, taking in her scent and prays that he doesn't finish before her. Michonne watches Rick's face heavy in concentration and she reaches up and place her hand on his cheek. Rick kisses the inside of her palm and with little adjustment Michonne felt him at her very center and closes her eyes in anticipation and bliss.


	5. CH 4: Weird Science

_Code note –Really happy you guys enjoyed the previous chapter. LOVE the reviews. I don't write slow burn (I love reading it though) because that is not what this story is about here. If you love that bit of tease in the previous chapter then hooray and if you wanted a little more, well, sorry no smut, how about a little Richonne afterglow. :)_

 _What is up with Carl, we need to find out. Negan is in this update too._

* * *

" **Weird Science"**

Michonne,the first to wake up,tries to stretch in what little space Rick gave, which meant she waspractically right on top of him. They were chest to chest, with his right arm over her naked waist and the other arm resting comfortably over his head. She lifts her head up from his bare chest and looks up at his sleeping face. There was contentment and half a smile on his sleeping a bit parched, but not wanting to disturb his sleep state since he did most of the work and needed the sleep more than her, Michonne slowly removes her arm from around his waist. She carefully pushes herself off of him, but the sudden movements only made Rick pull Michonne closer towards him.

"What are you doing?" his deep voice quietly asks her.

Michonne looks over at Rick to see his eyes were still close. "I'm thirsty and I didn't want to wake you."

"Okay."

Michonne moves her naked form off from Rick to get something to drink. With the glass in her hand she stood and stares aimlessly outside her window; the night was still with a fog ghosting the shores and banks of the river, the ship itself was even silent giving the illusions that there was no one on board. Rick, feeling a bit empty,looks up and around to find her well toned silhouette standing and staring out from her window. Michonne hears her name being called and turns to face her bed to see Rick sitting up watching her curiously.

"It's really quiet," Michonne points out as she makes her way back to bed, getting comfortable she rest her head on his chest.

"You sound disappointed."

"No, I was watching the fog and it always feels like the eye of the storm. The calm before,when I was a child, I use to play hide and seek with the neighbors children in the fog and it was all fun and games until someone got hurt. And someone always got hurt but not me."

"When did you stop playing in the fog?"

Michonne chuckles, "I never stopped, the denser the mist the better."

"What are you saying?You want to go play in some fog?"

Michonne looks up to see Rick beaming at her, his lips were teasingly set in a smile and Michonne just wanted to kiss those lips of his and that she does. She closes her eyes and leans upward and kisses him,it was soft, very slow and sensual, and she heard him groan when she took a nibble of his bottom lip before letting it go. She opens her eyes to find Rick passionately looking at her then he frowns.

"What?" she asks.

Rick wasn't upset, just confused; maybe in awe or in love, too, "How the hell do you do that?"

"Do what? I just love kissing those lips of yours."

"Yes, but then you end it so quickly. You've been doing that most of the night, stealing kisses."

"Careful Grimes you don't want me to steal that heart of yours too."

He chuckles, _'She just may have'_ he thought.

Rick wanted more and he pulled her closer to him and once again their lips connected and tongues entwined together. Michonne loves kissing Rick because he knows when to take control and for some reason he tasted like passion. Rick adjusts them both so she was now lying right on top of him.

"Oh," she said when she felt his erection on her stomach.

"You woke up other things with that kiss of yours."

Michonne lifts herself up to properly straddle his frame and looks down at him, "Well I better take care of it before you start accusing me of stealing that too."

"Take your time, we have the whole night."

* * *

Carl woke up on a soft mattress to the song _'Electric Blue'_ playing, no, blasting through his eardrums.

"Not this damn song again" he groggily says.

It has been the song of choice Dwight played every hours of the day in the storage closet that became his new dwelling for those weeks and months. It was a small room with just a ratty blanket, a bucket to piss in and the only natural light came from a very small window at the highest corner of the room. It got into a system where Dwight or Arat would pick up his bucket of excrements and those are days Carl felt a resolve of sorts a ' _here you go, a piece of my shit for shits'._ Then there is Joey, the cook, pretty decent guy doesn't say much when he brings Carl his meager meal of buttered bread and water, sometimes diluted tea and a piece of orange. Out of the three, Dwight does most of the talking he would come in and just talk, his way of making peace with just causes.

The first time he heard that Carl thought, _'How is kidnapping me a 'just cause?' Right_ , _speak your sins and all will be forgiven.'_

When Negan visits, which was hardly ever, he would tower over him in all his black, sporting those shades in an already dark room and scowls at Carl. Then he would slowly smile then lean on his bat like it's a cane and Carl would feel this foreboding feeling of dying in the tiny dank room.

The room he was currently in was ablaze with natural light, _'Well better than that other room._ ' Carl thought as he focuses his eyes and tries to sit up; a dizziness had overcome him, so he laid back down. From where he lay, he looks around the room and sees an impressive lab in the corner with clean vials and beakers on a shelf behind it. There was a surgery table in the middle of the room with clean linens at the foot of the bed. Then he sees it, the darn phonograph;he then glances around the area near his bed to see if anything was within arm's reach; something he could throw at it to end the incessant tune, but that would have to wait. As for now, his face felt it was on fire and he winces at the pain and raises both hand to his head; all he felt was cloth.

He frantically felt around his face and head for that one piece that was sticking out or tucked away that would aid him in unraveling the bandage. Carl felt it and began to unwind the bandage,rapidly ignoring the intense pain each time a piece of cloth was removed from his face; he needed to know. Trying not to think the worst did not help with his breathing as it has become slightly labored and the beating of his heart quickens as the dread sinks in and welcomes panic.

' _I have no face. What am I going to do with no face, how am I going to charm my way with the ladies at flight school now.'_ Carl thought.

As he unwinds the cloth from his face, Carl notices how clean it was but the closer he got to his goal there was evidence of dried blood, getting larger and brighter. He didn't know that he had reached his goal until he felt his greasy hair touched his a deep breath and exhaling slowly, he touches his face, he winces in pain when he felt the stitching; just by touch, it felt neat and he slowly works his fingers and trace the lines of each stitch, starting from the inner corner near his right brow all the way down to his chin. He touches his nose and the other side of his face and sighs in relief but winces in pain as the fire on his face intensifies. The music stops playing and Carl lets out a sigh of relief but it was short lived as he heard the machine being cranked again and the beginning chords is heard in the room again.

"Turn it off!" he shouts. "Please," he adds as he was not one to forget his manners when it calls for it.

A man in a brown tweed vest and matching pants stood over the bed and frowns down at Carl, "Well, I see that you've gone ahead and removed the bandages; you were thrashing about in your sleep a few nights ago. I had to restrain you. Had you woken yesterday you would not have so easily removed those bandages."

He gives Carl a tonic to help ease any pain he may be feeling; he warns him that it packs a high punch and may make him feel dizzy and will only dose him once a day. He pulls out a small notebook from inside his chest pocket, opens it and began to write some things in it. He looks down at Carl, frowns and writes some more before finally closing it and placing it back in his pocket. The man leans forward to assess the stitching on his face feeling satisfied he stood back up, "I must say that you missed one hell of a week, but no matter."

"I've been out for a week?" Carl was shocked by this, "It felt like a few hours and not even that. I am still so tired and why is that damn song being played so loudly."

"I'm more partial to the astronomy and the unknown, but Negan wanted to make sure to remind you as to where you are." The man left the room.

"How can I forget where I am?" Carl mumbles as he tries to sit up. Before Carl could wonder where he went he realize it was to lower the volume; it was little use since the music was still deafening.

The man in the tweed vest returns a few seconds later, "How is that?"

Carl groan, "Did you even lower it, it's still loud?"

"Loud?" he inquires while crossing his arm, "Fascinating. How is your sight?"

"Fascinating, I can think of other words and fascinating is not one of those words. You're a doctor, right?"

He nods his head, "That is correct; I am the ship doctor, Phillip."

"Phillip, it is an odd thing to say about my hearing, as far as my sight, well it is as good as it will ever be. The real problem," Carl points to the other room. "Is the music, can I just say that I can feel my eardrums pulsing, can't you just turn it off?"

Phillip purses his lips together and shakes his head, "But the fact that you're telling me that your eardrums is pulsing says a lot."

Carl watches in silence as Phillip pulls up a seat next to the bed and takes a seat; Phillip pulls out his little notebook.

"Let's start with the basics, Carl. Can I call you Carl or would you like something formal, say Mr. Grimes or?"

Carl interrupts him, "Mr. Grimes, you can address me in a formal manner, we are not friends."

Phillip raises a brow and tilts his head his way. "Indeed we are not. Shall we start then? You came in care with deep lacerations," Phillip pauses to look at the picture he drew of the boy's face. Each area was marked in its medical term but knew the boy would not understand so he would have to choose his wording carefully. "Deep lacerations to the right side of face, and right eye."

Carl listens intently as the doctor went into detail on how the wound was treated; stopping him to ask what he uses to numb the area and seal the area. He was excited to know that the most serious areas nanobytes were used. Carl stops him at the conclusive evidence as to what scarred his face.

"Be reasonable here Phillip, Fingernails?"

Phillip looks up from his note, "Doctor Blake, you can address me in a formal manner as well."

Carl smiles, "Touché, Doctor Blake." He got serious again, "Can you be reasonable here, it was talons, hell, claws that did this," he points to his face as an added statement.

"You're right, Mr. Grimes," Phillip closes his notebook and places it back in his pocket,"It was claws, you've been mark by Negan and you're going to morph into a werewolf on the next full moon."

Carl sits back in his bed, not sure how to feel about that,wonder, excitement, fear? _'Evidently all, yes however what a shit life I'm about to have.'_ Carl thought

With this new found information, Phillip observes the boy's behavior; taking in the crossing of the arm and this stillness to his demeanor, _'He is taking this bit of news rather well.'_

Phillip stood up from his he began to grab some items off his desk and walks back over to the bed, he begins to run a light in both of his eye.

He took a vial out, "Make a small fist for me." Carl watches as he took blood from his arm in silence.

He then walks over to his lab and place the vial in a tray with other matching vials, he wrote the date on the new one. Without looking up, "Now that we got all that out of the way, do you or can you recollect anything?" Phillip asks.

Carl frowns at that question. He is very annoyed with even the thought that he would forget something like this, "Have you gone daft all of a sudden? Of course I remember everything."

Carl remembers the very second that had led him here. _From his supposed friends Ron and Adam inviting him to town only to get tied and blindfolded upon entering the carriage, losing his favorite hat in the process; he had even called out to his friends only to get silence and then being knocked out. He remembers smelling the sea water and meeting Dwight. Carl remembers the pitied look the guy gave him when he introduced himself, but fuck it, Carl took a chance when the ropes were removed and landed a right hook and a solid kick to the stomach. But then he had gotten the wind knocked right out of his sails when Dwight punched him first in the face then in the stomach. He was bracing for the next one when someone ordered for Dwight to stop and that someone was Negan._

 _Carl will never forget meeting Negan, his presence alone was dark and sinister; Carl, between breaths, had even commented on him being a walking cliché since he was dressed in black. He had long since removed the very tall hat from his head and slicks his shiny black hair back, he hands his hat and bat to Dwight and towering over Carl._

" _Walking cliché, am I?" Negan had said, slowly leaning forward until he was eye level, and removes his dark sunglasses while he glares at him menacingly. The man then laughs in his face; his breathhits Carl's face, smelling like days old cigar, iodine and blood. Carl remembers cringing inwardly as the cold fear went up and down his spinewhile he watched in silence as the man'spupilsturn to an odd mix of brown and red with specks of yellow around the irises and gave Carl an even more penetrating stare. He leans forward, places the sunglasses back on his face, reaches for his hat and bat and slowly saunters out of the room._

' _The man is definitely not human'Carl had thought_

Carl looks at the doctor, "I remember Negan ripping right through me, and I can still remember the pain. Who could forget that?"

The doctor stops what he was doing and shakes his head, "I wouldn't have thought it would have gone this way. The captain has something against your father. You, me even Dwight are pawns in something bigger."

Finally, Phillip checked his vitals; feeling satisfied with the result, he left to inform Dwight that Carl was awake and in turn Dwight let Negan know. Negan, pleased at the news, order them to clean him up and to have the Grimes boy dine with him because their kind needs to stick together.

* * *

Carl once again on another dining evening sitting across from Negan, and Carl preferred choice of face game; a perpetual scowl. He never took too kindly to these dining experiences and cringe every time Negan said the word 'our kind'.

Carl did ask him about that a few dinners ago. "You keep bringing up _'our kind'_ this and _'our kind'_ that. Arat gazes upon you rather warmly; you could have your own kind with her."

Negan balks at the thought, "That she does but there is no way in hell I am sleeping with the help. I have on the other hand set my sights on someone nearby been trying to get a little action from her for years now. She does cure one hell of a meat though."

Carl once again sits with the food placed in front of him still untouched, he could swear that it was same meat and he stares at the bloody mess and tries not to retch. What he does do is yawn instead of stifling it, his mind instantly thought what his mom would have said if he had done that at their dining room table.

Since being kidnapped, Carl thought about his mom a lot, he thought of his dad too but it was her face that comforted him when he was kept in the dark storage room of Negan's ship. It was her he dreamed about when he slept. There was a family photo beside his bed in his dorm room that he would sometimes stare at; it was his favorite one of her too. He was six in the photo, they were dining at their favorite restaurant, and his mom had pleaded for them to have their photo taken. It was a happy occasion, his dad relents, and they took it. He was in the middle of his parents, with a bit of frosting at the corner of Carl mouth, but it was all a toothy smile; the lace hat his mom wore covers one corner of her face and she had her head slightly resting on his dad's shoulder.

Carl wished he had that photo with him right now, he had even found himself talking out to her, of course, she doesn't respond back but there was a level of comfort that gave him. He was so glad and relieved when he saw his dad ship in the distance on that day, he has always known that his dad would find him, no doubt and was ready to fight his way off the ship and was about to reach for that stupid ass bat Negan always had with him but then he death grip him and that level of fear returned again. Carl felt like he failed everyone on _The Bandit Hunter_ , there was no way his dad was going to risk taking a shot, not even his uncle Daryl would've risked it, he knew both his dad and his uncle were weighing all possible options as well.

Carl needs a distraction before he gets too emotional and criesagain so he focuses his attention on the bloody bandage on the table. It was always removed atthe behest of Negan, and most often, by Negan,so he could bask in the art of perfection he has created; the guy had even clapped and patted himself on the back every time.

There was also a broken handheld mirror on the table too, that was new to the dining experience. Negan had wanted Carl to see him as he is and practically shoves the mirror in his face, but Carl takes a hold of the stupid thing and slams in on the table, shattering it in pieces. Carl had crossed his shackled arm and smiles in glee. Negan was amused by it all and just sits back down at his end of the table, Negan figures when the Grimes boy was good and ready to see himself he will. Carl's face hurts and itches like hell too; some places still very raw and tender to the touch but according to the doctor, it was healing wonderfully.

Negan continues to stare at his handiwork, it was like looking at a younger Rick Grimes all over again, but this time there wasn't this intense feeling to punch him in the face. Negan was enjoying the way each raw lining had lined up perfectly with the next. Oh it is going to scar up most definitelyand Negan was happy about that.

Negan leans forward and takes another bite from his plate and chews on the meatwhile saying nothing. They have been doing this staring at each other bullshit for some time now, no words spoken; and Negan was okay with it but now, now he was downright annoyed.

"This is it Carl, I personally made sure that the meat was not overcooked this time. If you do not eat, you are going to get a very rude awakening at the next cycle."

The meat was just braised on both side and just plain raw in the middle. "I'd rather die than eat this disgusting shit in front of me, it's not even cooked." Carl shoves the plate away from him, the chains on his arms rattle.

"And that is the best way to eat meat, trust me."

"Since you are so hell bent on having a 'kind', why not have one of your own. And how would you know what's best for me? Maybe I'm a different 'kind' of breed, you may have been the one to mark me but I am still a Grimes." Carl says confidently as he sits back in his seat and crosses his arm.

Negan grunts at the statement, "A Grimes," Negan shakes his head and grunts again, "That you are for however long that may be."

"What's that suppose to mean."

"It means exactly what it meant to be stated," Negan scrutinize Carl, "I marked you Grimes boy, I am a part of you and you are a part of me.

"Yes, a werewolf I am to be on the next full moon, I suppose I should ask you questions about all that."

"You can if you want but that doesn't mean I am at liberty to explain anything to you."

Carl wasn't surprise by this, "Right, because it would be so much easier for me to find things out on my mind."

Negan smile, "You learn quickly, and that's good because I never took you to be an idiot but I will tell you this, each change will get easier." He also notices that Carl hasn't taken a single bit from his meal, "Now, about that piece of meat in front of you.""

"What about it? You never brought anything fully cooked in front of me for three days now. You're a shitty host."

Negan laughs then got serious, "Listen here Grimes boy, I am not your host, I am your kidnapper," he then raises the knife in his hand in his direction, "Hence the chains and the crappy sleeping conditions."

Carl's stomach rumbles loudly and Negan raises his eyes at the noise, "Shit, I should bring you a fully cooked steak, bet you'll love that. Then you'll know what the fuck I've been talking about."

Negan shouts for Arat and a few minutes later she walks in.

"Have Joey cook up a nice piece of steak for Carl," Negan faces Carl, "How you want it? Medium? Well done?" Negan didn't let him answer, he faces Arat again. "You know what, a fully cook steak with all the fixing too."

Arat nods her head, "You got it." She left the room.

Negan shoves another piece of meat in his mouth, "The hunger is going to be so bad for you too and I cannot wait."

Carl really was hungry but reached for an apple instead, "This conversation is boring. Can we just not talk?"

He takes a bite out of the apple and nearly gags, the thing tasted horrible but Carl forces his way through it and felt relieved that he was able to swallow the damn thing.

"How was that bite, went down okay?" Negan ask very amused by his stubbornness.

Carl responds by taking another bite and other, finishing it completely and reaches for another one.

' _Ha this kid is a real asshole, a teenage asshole. Was I this stubborn at sixteen, seventeen._ ' Negan thought.

"You can't fill up on apples alone but you know what, this is good. It is going to be real fun when I release you."

Carl perks up at this, "You're going to let me go?"

Negan shoves another piece in his mouth and finishes chewing before responding.

"I wasn't going to,but your ill behavior has me thinking and plotting. Society social climber Gregory owes me a favor. Now listen good Grimes boy," he points his knife in his direction, "You've been somewhat of a burden being an extra mouth to feed and having to accommodate you and yes accommodate because there have been times I wanted to kill and be rid of you but I got huge plans. Now, instead of burdening me by me not killing you I'll let you go so that you can burden others and kill them."

Negan smiles sinisterly while he cuts another piece of meat and place the bloody piece of meat in his mouth; the juices trails down his mouth and Negan doesn't wipe it off, "I want to see how and what you father is going to do when he gets a hold of you."

Negan enjoys it very much when he sees the fear in the Grimes boy eyes. "You're going to be so feral. I'll bet you'll even kill him too."

Negan takes the last bite from his delicious piece of meat, his eyes a darkened pool of yellow as he continues to stare down the Grimes boy, feeling content when that scowls was long gone from his face.

* * *

Daryl and Sasha have been sitting in the dark waiting for this contact for a good hour now. Sasha was doing most of the talking and Daryl was listening but not really paying attention. Ever so often he would throw a pebble into the foggy night, the pebble hits the tree he was aiming for then falls in the moss around the tree roots. He stops mid throw and listen, was that something, and stood up to listen for a few second only to get frustrated when all he heard silence. Daryl sits back down.

' _This better not be a complete waste of time.'_ Daryl thought.


	6. CH 5: In A Big Country

What's this?

What's this I have updated. There will be mistakes and errors with run ons and grammar. But I got really tired of staring at my words. Let me know what you think.

* * *

" **In A Big Country"**

Daryl was dead serious when he told Sasha not to dress fancy and what does she do? Yep! She dressed fancy, complete with some frilly hat on her head.

'But my god does she look good though, the dress does not hid a damn thing and who better to sway her hips around him like that but Sasha', Daryl thought. He gave her once over before telling her to change and how sad.

"I was being serious back there. That dress would not do at all and there is no way in hell you would be comfortable sitting side saddle on a motorcycle." Daryl said while eyeing her up and down, he chuckle at the thought.

The daylight was already burning and he was pressed for time, Daryl wants to get the drinking tab squared away with the pub owner before leaving and they didn't have the time to send her back home to change, he sent her to Michonne cabin to find her something else to wear. Sasha returned a few minutes later, a knowing smile on her face and politely commented that Michonne was indisposed. That bit of news frustrated Daryl to high hell. He curses as he led them both back to his room and proceeds to find her something of his she could wear. Sasha was surprise by how neat and well together everything was in Daryl cabin and let him know. Daryl didn't say anything he hands her a clean shirt, pants and night vision goggle and left her in his room so she could get dress.

Sasha was a tiny bit hurt that Daryl had no intentions of having a drink with her. He didn't say anything nice about her looks either and she took great care in her dress she had on too. He just says no and sends her to Michonne for something that will feel comfortable on since she will be riding behind him. Sasha did not have to knock on Michonne to know that her friend had other plans and plans she did She could hear the both of them. Daryl lead her to his room and sure she was surprise by the state of his room, seriously who would not have thought the guy was a neat freak, and says so, she saw the frown but not even a peep. Oh, this is going to be a great night as she rolls her eyes just for that Sasha was tempted to turn one of his book inside down or backwards just to see if he would notice. She is going to do it after she gets dress. After changing and fashioning one of Daryl belt to hold the pants up they went to see Jesus who looks at Sasha with am interested and puzzled look on his face, Sasha told him that they weren't going to drinks but Daryl corrected her he said something about leaving the pub some money make sure the bill was square and then meet the contact. Jesus then motions to the selection of weapons Daryl had requested.

After sharing a joke and a drink with the crew, Sasha had to stop and talk with almost every single patron as she should because this was her hometown, everyone knows everyone and yes they were all taken back by her apparel, they say nothing. Sasha joked about it and they laughed along with her but they would wait until she left her establishment to gossip all about showing up with Daryl Dixon, it was the polite thing to do.

 _This better not be a complete waste of time.'_ Daryl thought, while ever so often throwing pebbles into the foggy night, his vision barely catching each pebble hitting the tree, he was aiming for, falls in the moss around the tree roots.

Sasha was whispered to him, she spoke about some party she went too and couldn't remember the name of the champagne she drank. Then she asks him about his family and how he knew Rick Grimes. Daryl was quiet for a minute as he played with the pebbles in his hand. Sasha was sure she wasn't going to get anything from him and sighs.

Daryl chuckle "Okay, I met Rick while robbing a bank back in Georgia."

"What." Sasha exclaims, "Why were you two robbing a bank? Are you guys outlaws?"

"Can I tell you the story or you want to fill in the holes."

"Sorry, yes, tell me." Sasha moves in closer towards him because she did not want to miss anything.

Daryl breathe hitched at the sudden nearness and lost his train of thought, he clears his throat before continuing, "Yeah, I was robbing this bank out in Georgia, this hoytee toytee uppity place, with all sorts of drinks and sweets laid out on the table for the customers. I'm casing the place with my brother Merle but he was busy shoveling his face down with those tiny cakes.

"Petite fours." She asks.

"Yes, those, the banker made it a point to express how they came from oversees and these tiny sweet. While he was busy stuffing his face, I immediately saw the flaw in their security system and after leaving we decided to hit the place the next day."

Daryl glances over to see Sasha, who was quiet listening intently, eating the story up and waiting for him to continue.

"So the next morning everything was going great, my brother and I barge in the place with guns blazing and we're screaming for everyone to kiss the ground and while my brother was about to blow up the safe this guy shoves a gun to my head and tells me _'and I was having such a beautiful morning too.'_ I turn around looking down at the barrel of this huge gun and I said _'me too_.'" Daryl pauses because he thought he heard something.

'Oh my God, I cannot believe this, Daryl's an outlaw' Sasha says to herself, "And then what happen."

"Then Rick shouts time and then Merle comes out the back giving us the time. Yeah, really hoytee toyee place but their security system was crap."

"Wait a minute, what, what just happened here." The confusion written all over her face.

Daryl smiles, "Oh! You thought I really robbed a bank, No, I'm weapons and security, we were doing a friend a favor, she thought her father was being a bit lacking in caring for his business, the patrons and their money. So we 'rob' his bank to let him know his security system wasn't working."

"What was he using before?"

"Nothing."

"Did he make any changes?"

"Yeah he did."

"Real smooth Dixon, Sasha nudges shoulder with his, "and here I thought you were an outlaw or something. You really had me there." She smiles.

"I thought you already know how Rick and I know each other, the way you were on the ship asking questions, being in everyone faces causing a commotion with all." Daryl says circling the air around Sasha.

"Causing a commotion? Sasha smirks at Daryl, "Probably for you, everyone loves me on your ship. You wouldn't know what to do if I even gave you the time or day."

"I must certainly know what to do."

"But who says I'll give you the time to do something."

"Miss William," Now it was Daryl turn to lean in to Sasha, "I am confident that I can say something, anything to that pretty face of yours, maybe whisper some things in your ear."

' _Oh my…Yes, whisper something to me.'_ _Sasha thought._

Sasha was about to say something when they heard the telltale moan of the dead, the scent permeated the air around them. They dispatch the five emaciated bodies rather quickly and quietly.

They return to the ship several hours later empty handed and no closer to finding Negan's ship or Carl Daryl had no idea who this contact was, this person had reached out to the King and. Making sure Miss William was safely home Daryl paid a visit to the Kingdom that same night, to hell with how late it was.

* * *

Daryl had to check all of his weapons at the gate even his gauntlets. Scowling and frowning at the knights stationed at the entrance to the home of the King and queen, he had very little to say to them. They even asked him if there were any more weapons, of course there was more but Daryl didn't feel the liberty to mention or say anything about the knives hidden at the sole of his boots. Daryl shakes his head and follows quietly behind the woman who took him to the auditorium where the King had his customary greetings and meetings. He listens as the King apologizes for their source while petting his tiger Shiva, the tiger was enjoying the attention but kept a watchful eye on Daryl, Daryl kept a watchful eye on the tiger while the Queen showed little interest in the matter that was brought before them.

The King once again reassured him that he will send out his very best to find out what went wrong and will send word back to the ship.

"Why can't this contact come directly to us?" Why you?" Daryl asks eyeing The King suspiciously.

"I have eyes everywhere Mr. Dixon, I trust this source."

Dissatisfied with that response Daryl frown at the both and left without even saying a goodbye.

The second night, was a larger company with Rick, Miss Brownfield and Miss William joining him and the four of them sat in the dark foggy night. Miss William had the company to whisper with Miss Brownfield.

Daryl eyes the sword Miss Brownfield had with her and notice how new it was, "Something new," Daryl ask pointing at her sword resting in her lap, "how many swords is that now?"

Michonne chuckle, "Three, she's beautiful, right?" Before they could respond, Michonne slowly unsheathe it, "It's made of silver too courtesy of Jesus."

They all agreed.

"Very wise." Rick adds, "Considering how you favor them."

"Yes, but I am so in favor to your ray gun too." Michonne raise her left eye and smirk at Rick while letting her eye wonder stopping just at his gun belt and slowly back at his face.

As the night rolls on everyone did not miss Rick repeatedly opening, checking the time and closing his pocket watch. They could tell he was getting antsy and uneasy and he had every right to be it was getting extremely late and Daryl was getting even more livid by the second. He never believed the words of a man who was 'playing' royalty. Daryl had thoughts of wringing The King neck himself when they were greeted with the scent of the dead. A larger horde of twenty maybe more had close in on them. They were back to back and had a problem in taken them out, Daryl had just removed his knife from the skull of a dead one when he saw Miss William trip and fall. The circle was broken and now the dead were focusing their attention on fallen fresh meat. Daryl frustrated with The King, fighting the dead, reaches for his gun; he knew the risk, the noise the gun makes when fire but he did it anyway.

They returned to the ship tired and listens in silence to Rick frustrated ranting on how he plans to wake up the whole Kingdom and have Daryl ready the ship's crew to drive out ready to make the trip to the

The met Jesus halfway up and he hand Rick a seal note address to him from someone name Alpha.

* * *

High up in the trees, the next night the four of them were being lead thru a winding maze of bright color rope and tents in the trees by a little girl, they were being lead deeper into the forest. The dense fog hid the tents in the tree well. The trail getting narrow until stopping at a giant oak tree, the little girl points up and turns around and left them standing there. They take the steps that were alongside the trunk of the tree and walk through the threshold, the home of Alpha. Now here they sat, inside Alpha's tent by her invitation, she allowed them to keep their weapons but she warns them if they were to try anything funny will be their last, she will kill them all.

Rick laughs, "I would like to see you try."

Alpha raises her brow at his boldness but says nothing, she offers them something to drink and they all decline.

"This is not a social call." Rick states, "What news do you have of my son?"

Alpha was motionless for a moment then removes her bright red hair from her face and face Rick,

"Aside being marked, plenty. Full moon is near, the boy starves." Alpha answers.

"We know the full moon is near. I want to know if you know where he is."

They wait for Alpha to say something, anything but again she is motionless.

Rick repeats the question.

Alpha gives Rick a penetrating stare, "I do, he was with Negan the last time I saw him."

"You saw him, you saw my son? Where is he?"

Alpha pats her hair down, "No, I am only going to answer one question but you're not asking the right one."

"What the hell is this, you invited us here, I am looking for my son, I am under the impression you know where he is based on the note you sent me."

"Did I?" Alpha asks a small smile on her face.

Rick was already irritated, he felt his hand was itching to blow her brains out but he stops himself, and exhales slowly he's tired and frustrated and takes a breathe.

Noticing Rick was about to do something, Michonne spoke up, "What do you mean by starves, is Carl starving himself?"

Alpha faces Michonne and looks at her as if she is seeing her for the first time in the room. Suddenly a gray and black cat appears, meows loudly then hops up and sits in Alphas lap, Alpha beams down at the cat and she is slow in petting, the purring of the cat loud in the quiet room, it flicks it tail and closes it green eyes, "This is my daughter Lydia." Alpha says to no one in particular.

The four of them exchanges looks with each other and watches as Alpha continues to pet her cat in silence, Rick sighs in irritation, he tilts his head side to side to works the kinks out of his neck, he was about to speak when the air suddenly got dry, prickly and electric.

The room was in complete silence when they first felt the presence then the room got extremely cold as they watch in shock as an apparition of a figure emits itself from the cat and enters Alpha.

"God damn it." Daryl shouts, "A witch, just great."

Daryl looks around the room frantically for clues. How the hell did he or Rick miss the damn anagrams on the walls?

Daryl looks down; they're were even sitting on the points of the pentagram. Daryl stands up hastily which made everyone stand up too.

"Stay where you are, all of you." a softer voice that came from Alpha said. "You'll break it and I won't be able to help you."

They stood motionless as they looks at each other and then one by one they all sat back down. This was clearly not Alpha, this person was a much younger version, her hair a safe lighter and eyes of green.

"Good." She said as she pet the sleeping cat in her lap, "Listen, we do not have enough time, I'm Lydia and the spell isn't meant to last that long. It was really silly of you to trust my mom. This is a trap."

"We came in confidence that no harm would come to us on the word of the note." Rick answer.

Lydia raises her hand in the air to silence Rick, "What word on the note, are you talking about The King or Gregory?"

"Okay, who is Gregory?" Daryl asks.

Lydia sigh, "Look, I have no time to explain, we must hurry. Michonne you asked why is Carl starving. I don't know, could be may think he is human or in defiance but he must eat. He hasn't eaten any kind of meat, nothing raw or bloody since becoming what he is."

Lydia realizes that this news wasn't registering with them yet and sighs again.

"Look, eating gives us all strength, sustenance. Without food and water we are nothing, we slowly waste away. For a were' it's all about storing sustenance and energy and helps eases a turn but no first turn is easy. In Carl's case his first turn he will be weak and fragile. As a new were' Carl won't be able to control himself, he will be stronger and faster but so will the hungry, it will be so strong nothing can contain this insatiable need to hunt and to feed. Negan is going to return him to you in accord of you not knowing this."

"Oh my God." Sasha whispers as she shakes her head.

They were all under the impression that since Negan can control himself so would Carl but this bit of news changes everything.

"Negan is releasing him just like that." Rick said in surprise but it was slowly registering why Negan would do this.

"Yes, but not for a happy reunion, It's all part of a much bigger plot. I'm sorry."

"Is it going to be like this every time he turns? This pain and hunger?" Michonne asks in concern.

Lydia shakes her head, "I do not know. Do you have a silver encased dungeon or cage, silver chains?"

"My son is not some kind of animal." Ricks shouts.

Lydia gives Rick a sympathetic look, "But there is something animal in him now. You have to be ready."

Lydia suddenly stops speaking and frantically looks down at the cat, stirring in her lap, "You have to leave now. Carl will be at the Hilltop in two days times. Ask for Gregory, do not trust any word he says. Just get you son and leave. Now, hurry, leave she is wak-."

It was happening again, the air was very still and once again the room is hot, prickly and electric.

"Hell you don't have to tell us twice." Daryl replied as he hustle everyone to leave. He never liked nor trust witches, they were right up there with mermaids and succubus's but he took the word of this one and continue to hustle everyone out.

* * *

It was a race against time when Rick left to see Eric in New York, he only took Jesus and Abe with him, leaving Daryl to get everything prepared In Virginia. The crew was helping him get things ready as well. Sasha was useful as she was well verse in tactics thanks to her brother, who was also in attendance. Michonne not sure where or how she can help called her dad for advice; she called at an hour she knew her mom would be out.

After having the phone brought to her cabin she place the heavy thing on the table and lifts the receiver and places it to her ear and begins to turns the rotary of each dials one by one and waits, she traces the insignia on the face of the phone while she waits to be connected.

"Brownfield residence." A melodious voice said on the other line.

Michonne cringe but spoke quickly, "Hiiii mom, I was wondering if you could put dad on the phone."

"Michonne? Is that you Michonne dear? Oh, how good of you to call darling. Listen we haven't heard from you in nearly a week. What is going on over there in Virginia? You know I really don't approve of this, especially ypu being a single lady and all and god knows how Virginia is treating you." Her mom said"

"There is nothing wrong being a modern woman in these time mom" Michonne replied.

Her mother sighs loudly in the phone, "Michonne I do not disprove of you being this modern woman and you can still do other things too." Michonne could hear the frown in her mom's voice when she said that and she says nothing in response.

"Michonne? Michonne darling you there?"

"I'm here and I know you don't approve had I been born a man surely things would have been different"

"Miss Michonne Jericka Brownfield I do not regret for a minute those two days of labor bringing you in this world, with those beautiful brown eyes and those chubby cheeks of yours, love at first sight. I would never regret it. So stop saying things like that"

Michonne sigh, "Your right mom, I am sorry and will not bring it up again But I have to do this and I really need to speak to dad, is he there?" She asks.

"Well of course he is, god knows what he does in that lab of his. Listen did you get my parcel? You should have because I got a certificate saying you did."

Michonne sighs, "I did receive it, very pretty invitation and yes I will be there, I really wish you hadn't done this though."

"Oh that is wonderful news; I've picked out a few dresses and some shoes out for you because I knew you would not have the time to do it. Would you be able to line up an escort? The man that owes the airship you're on, Grimes, he can escort you. I run in the same social circle as his mother and she stopped me in the café where I and your aunts always meet for tea catch up. Well you should have seen our faces when she cross the line and sat down across from us and join us for tea and she mention to me, very discreetly that she is tired of her sons travels and hopefully when everything safely and cautiously settles down and she then gives me this **look** "

Michonne says nothing she figures it would be best to let her mom get all the gossip out of the way.

"Do you know what that **look** said to me Michonne?"

' _If only you both knew how well the both of us have gotten to know each other, what a scandal and shocker. Good thing it's up in the skies.'_ Michonne thought to herself

Michonne had an idea but wanted to entertain her mom for a moment more, "No, I wasn't there to see this **look** but what did this **look** say to you."

Zylphia chuckle, "Oh darling it's the look mothers share when they are about to plot.

Michonne sigh loudly in the phone, "Plotting Mother, you're plotting now with Mrs. Grimes, please whatever you both are thinking and trying to do I strongly advise against it."

She laughs instead. "Oh my goodness I almost forgot, I was speaking to your friend Andrea the other day. You do remember her right from your school days, why did you stop speaking to her because I do like her. Well I invited then to the ball but she had just informed me that she and Shane are expecting their second baby, baby number two. Isn't that wonder -."

Michonne cut her mom off before the conversation redirect itself to Michonne not being married again and she asks her mom if she could speak to dad again, her mom sighs heavily in the phone but told her to hold on.

It felt like forever holding on like that she was worried her mom would not be able to get her dad out of the lab but when she heard her dad on the other line Michonne sighs in relief. She quickly relive the past few days with her dad as he listen in silence.

"A werewolf?" he asks in interest, "How a turn of events, from someone stealing from us, to a kidnapping and now this. I wonder if this is all connected, hmm. Well there isn't much I can do from here. Do you know what kind of breed he is?"

"Breeding has something to do with it?"

"Surprisingly so it plays a very important role in this, was the man who marked the young Grimes tainted in any way or cursed?"

"I do not know."

"Well if you can send me any blood samples see if my colleagues over at the university can help me pinpoint something and see if you can get some kind of background on this Negan and be careful with that one."

"I think I can get something for you in two, maybe three days time."

"Michonne don't do anything that can get you seriously hurt. Maybe this was a bad idea for you to be there"

Michonne heard genuine concern in his voice, "Dad don't pull a mom on me now." She said this teasingly in a way to calm his but she reassured her dad one more time that was she was doing was right and for them all.

"Have to voice my concern every time dear. May it be in letters or phone calls, which by the way may be costing Grimes." He said

"I don't know how Jesus does it but I didn't need to use an operator to connect the call.

Frederick was thoughtful for a moment, "That Jesus is very resourceful."

"That he is."

"Speaking off, I am sending you my notes on the clockwork system to those steel beam and rods, the formula he wanted to use for the aether is off as well and I corrected it. That is quite a lot of steel so I can understand a pressurize boiling system with the clockwork but why the aether? You know, he said this was your idea."

Michonne smile, "It was my idea indeed."

Frederick beam proudly "That is wonderful; the student is becoming a teacher I assume?"

"Perhaps, perhaps, we will see if what we create will work."

Michonne then ask her dad a personal favor "Can you make sure mom knows that my favorite color is still purple, so nothing gold. I will not argue over the colors pink and red though but no gold."

It was easier to get through to her dad than her mom and he'll make sure to let her know.

He chuckles, "I will remind her."

"Let her know I love her just as much as I love you dad."

"Of course, and we love you too."

They said their good byes and hung up.

* * *

Mother and daughter were arguing, weapon of choice were the spells they cast on each other. Alpha had managed to get a more powerful spell and takes a hold of Lydia's apparition refusing to let her go.

"You stupid girl, do you know what you have done."

"Of course I know what I did; we do not owe Negan anything. He has no hold on us and I like the Grimes, they did nothing to deserve this."

"Everyone deserves something may it be good or bad, I do not know what it is that Negan has for that man but Negan has more hold of us than you can imagine."

"We are witches Alpha, you didn't have to try and kill them, and we need to focus all of our powers and curse Negan, kill him. Its' almost," Lydia stares at her mother and frowns, "Alpha are afraid of him. What are you not telling me?"

Alpha releases Lydia's apparition "He has something very precious to me and will not give it back until I fulfill the end of my bargain."

"What bargain?"

Alpha is already getting tired of the questions, "I have told you more than enough, now I need you to give that cat a break and get in the eagle and head back to _The Bandit Hunter_ , I need your eyes on them again."

Lydia feeling free sat down and opens the book of spells, "I won't do it."

"You will do it. Or I will kill you again."

"There you go with the 'kill you' again. You should have done it when you still had a hold of me." Lydia memorizes the chant in front of her, "You know damn well I'm going to do it but I want a body trade."

Alpha frowns but was willing to listen on this body trade, "Who is it this time?"

"The same one, I like hers, we are close in height and age."

Alpha scowls, "For how long?"

Lydia thought for a moment, "More than week, a month."

"A month!" Alpha shakes her head, "Absolutely not."

Lydia stood up and floats around her mother, and whisper in her ear, "Then find another pair of eyes." Then she disappears before Alpha could cast the spell on holding her again. Alpha was left standing there angry that Lydia had the upper hand again.

"Fine! But you get me the eyes on _The Bandit Hunter_ first, when you return you can body trade for a month."

Lydia materializes in front of Alpha a smile on her face, Alpha continues to watch as she faces the eagle in the cage. The eagle began to squawk and flap it wings frantically before silencing itself. It small beady eyes goes large then small again and turn to face Alpha. Alpha reaches for the cage and unlocks it, she opens the door to the cage.

"You know what to do Lydia."

The eagle squawk as it stretches it wings out and flew out the tent.

* * *

The next chapter should be up soonish


	7. CH6:Tonight Is What It Means To Be Young

Code note – Thank you so much for reading and following and commenting too, I appreciate it.

Great news about this chapter, I had help by the wonderful Siancore. Thank God because it's one thing to speech to text and another to do an actual re-read and fix mistakes.

Thanks Siancore, you are my lifesaver!

* * *

" **Tonight Is What It Means To Be Young"**

Eugene observes the eagle from the windows of his kitchen, he has fed it a few times, but this time it did not approach him when he called to it. The eagle had made an introduction the first night they arrived in Alexandria. The darn thing flew right up to his window and flaps its long wings at him, the moment startled the hell out of him but it then stood there motionless, watching him and blinking its eyes a few times. The eagle had amused Eugene very much with this silent staring to the point of him laughing at it. But it began to screech loudly, a response of sorts as to say stop laughing at me. When Eugene asked the direct question of 'what are you doing here?' it screeched again. That gave him the impression that maybe this eagle understood him.

He then opened the window and let the eagle in, it flew in and parked a spot right on the serving cart. He also realizes how expensive the eagle pallet was, opting for pieces of fruit and cooked chicken than the usual staple of bread. A few more days of this and the eagle 'warms' up to Eugene allowing him to pet its wing while openly feeding from his hand. Eugene was not well versed in the world of birds, but he would find himself staring at the patch of dark reddish feathers mixed in with the white on the eagle's head and wonder what that could mean.

Eugene opens the window and waits for the eagle to fly in, but it does not; he frowns and wonders if she was okay.

"Are you okay Miss Eagle." When Eugene called it a 'sir' the first day of meeting it flapped it wings rapidly and screeched loudly, so it's been _miss_ ever since.

The eagle doesn't return a response. Eugene was about to call out to her again but the eagle flaps its wings and took off in the sky.

"How odd, very odd indeed," he says to himself as he continues to watch the eagle soar in the sky, circling a few times before flying west of the ship.

* * *

Rick and Abe were leaning on Eric's drawing board, while Eric makes another crucial change to the drawings. They all lean back and watch Jesus lean forward to look over the schematics; he frowns and once again grabs a pencil and ruler and begins to make changes to the height and width of the cage.

After finishing, Jesus looks up, "The problem is the bars, they are still too wide, and we need to make it-" Jesus stops once he sees Rick's face; the man was practically running on adrenaline alone, clear evidence of his bloodshot eyes from lack of sleep that mental exhaustion were written on his captain and friend's face.

They left the night after his meeting with Alpha, he listens as Rick brought him and Abe to speed of the meeting as they took the bikes out, it was faster and light in speed to where they were going. They arrive at Eric property at the crack of dawn banging on his door and been going nonstop.

Abe gives Rick a nudge to get his attention, "Hey Rick we can take over from here. We can manage gets some sleep."

Rick shakes his head, "No, I need to see this through."

They say nothing but understand the why, yet this was very difficult for them all.

"How many pounds can this sustain again?" Rick asks. "We need to make sure Carl doesn't get out but I need to make sure it doesn't kill him too."

Eric has no doubt that it will hold, but does fear the worse and was thoughtful in his response, "Trust me it will hold, the whole cage is going to made in both steel and silver but it is a lot of silver, we can omit the chair and just have him chained to the floor."

Rick frowns at that and lashes out, "He is not an animal!" Eric begs to differ; he is an animal too but understands and apologizes.

Rick can feel a headache coming and begins to massage his brow in hopes to dull the ache away, this was very hard for him; they are taking about putting his son in a cage. They all know Carl, some more than others, from birth. His heart was slowly breaking and his fear the worse; he was worried that what they are going to do may kill him. So for Eric to even consider chaining Carl, Rick did not even want to think about it.

"Run me through it again so we know how it works." Rick says as he listens to both Eric and Jesus once again go over the drawing with him. When they were done speaking Rick rubs his face with his hand and sighs, "Make the changes to the bars but no chains. How soon can this be done?"

"The full moon is near but we can start right away, everyone knows this is high priority, the team is waiting for the okay," Eric answers.

"Good." He began to make his way to the door, "Get it done, I'll be back in a few days with my son and company, Jesus, make sure Eric is compensated."Rick left the room.

* * *

Rick returned alone a few hours later on about an hour of slept, he was exhausted. He boards his ship to Daryl's greeting, he tells him be ready they leave for The Hilltop in two, with every intention of sleeping for those two but that all changes once his eyes rested on Michonne. She was on deck talking to Eugene but seeing her smiling face rest upon his gave Rick that second wind he needed.

Later, Michonne is his only company in his quarters as she watches him shower. With his back to her, Michonne marvels in his chiseled lean and muscular beauty. The rugged lines in his back, his lean legs and bum; sure his bum wasn't as big as she would have liked it to be, but it was enough to grab, hold onto and even smack teasingly.

Michonne stifles a chuckle when he turns to ask her what was so funny. She only shakes her head and says nothing. She was tempted to join him when he asks, but as quickly as he was in he was out. Standing in front of her, Rick passes the towel over his head not bothering to fully dry it and quickly towels his naked form as he brings her up to speed on everything that had happened in New York. Rick balances putting his pants and boots on while guzzling down the cup of coffee Michonne had Eugene bring to his room. He thanks her for the shirt she hands him and slips it on, buttons it up, and shoves it inside his pants. She then hands him a waist coat and top hat and Rick frowns at them both. Michonne mentions something about making a lasting impression.

Fixing the gun belt around his waist, he checks to make sure his gun was loaded; feeling satisfied, he slips it in place. He then reaches for two extra clips and places them in the compartment of his boot and then shoves a knife in the other. Michonne watches on in silence.

Rick stands up and sees the coat and hat still in her hands; he shakes his head to the top hat, but reaches for the coat. After completely dressing with Michonne's help, he reaches for another gun and extra clip and slips those inside the coat. As he stands fully dressed in front of her, realization hits him squarely in the face as to how domesticated this all felt, right down to Michonne running her fingers through his hair.

"It was all about getting your hair just right." She said but Rick disbelieves her when he could see the enjoyment on her face as she played through his hair, wrapping her fingers around his curls, her fingers massaging his scalp.

Rick didn't even realize he has his eyes closed until he had opens them to see Michonne's brown eyes watching him seductively. Feeling like he did not give Michonne the proper 'I've returned' treatment, he pulls her in his arms and kisses her. Hearing a moan escape, Rick knew it was enough to say that they were not leaving his room just yet and reaches down and begin to unbuckle her pants.

Michonne's eyes flutter open and she breaks the kiss; panting slowly she looks deep within the pools of Rick's eyes which were now a deeper shade of blue, "What? What are you doing?"

Rick leans back in, his breath heavy on her face, and kisses her again. He gently nips the corner of her mouth and speaks.

"I'll be quick. I promise," he says while slipping his finger inside her pants, he marvels at how wet she was already as he slowly rubs her clit.

"Oh God, Rick," Michonne knew better, the way his hand moved slowly Rick was going to milk this out from her. She shifts and opens her legs wider, clinging to him and she rests her head in his shoulder.

* * *

Standing at the well-manicured hedges of The Hilltop were Rick, Michonne, Daryl and Sasha, and a dozen of his men. They were waiting for entry, with Rick front and center, his hand were resting easy on the holster of his gun.

"What is this all about?" the man leaning over a post high above them asks.

"Tell Gregory that Rick Grimes is here. He'll know," Rick replied.

The man stands there for a moment, then reaches for the phone by him and gave it few crank, he then places it to his ear and speaks quietly into the mouthpiece, he nods his head and eye them, "You'll need to leave your weapons here."

Daryl rolls his eyes thinking, _what in hell is up with these people around here thinking we need to leave our weapons behind, I really miss Georgia right now._

"To hell we are," Daryl shouts back.

"Gregory doesn't know who you are, it's for precaution." The man says.

Daryl raise his weapon in the air, "These are for our precaution too; we got the dead walking about, all hungry and shit. If it pleases your boss you tell this Gregory to come out then and speak to us out in open."

Daryl was done looking up at people on ledges and was already estimating how many explosive to use on the gate.

Rick senses Daryl planning and looks back up to the man leaning over the ledge, "I believe that response may displease you but we are not leaving."

The man says nothing and Rick was thru playing games. "I am being really patient here, so it's either you open the gate or we will open it ourselves."

The man did not doubt that declaration and spoke in the quietly in the mouthpiece again. He then raises his hand in the air and a few seconds later the steel gates of The Hilltop open.

Rick had stationed his men around the Mansion while the four of them stood in the foyer of the home of Gregory who was taking his sweet time making an appearance. Rick was absentmindedly tapping his mechanical fingers on his gun belt to each click of the grandfather clock facing him; he catches Daryl rolling his eyes. Rick lets out a chuckle upon seeing Michonne and Sasha walking around the foyer whispering and pointing at the different paintings.

The door to their right opens and out walks a well-dressed and all grinning man.

"Hello everyone, I am so very sorry to keep you all waiting. I wasn't expecting company. I am Gregory." He walks in the room and stops in the middle of it. Gregory looks around the room to silence, his eyes makes contact with the scowling face of the leader.

"I guess I can't talk you all in partaking in an afternoon drink with me," Gregory asks with a smile still on his face.

Rick leans his weight to the right and crosses his arms, "What do you think?" His voice low and measured out.

Gregory clasps his hand together, "No, well I hope you don't mind if I have a drink then." He turns and begins to walk out the foyer.

"Stop." Rick barks, his hands are flexed at his side.

Gregory turns back around a confused look on his face.

"Look, I get it; you don't know me so let me get that squared away," Rick points to himself, "I am Rick Grimes, you may have heard of me, I own and captain _The Bandit Hunter_ that is docked on the property of The Williams of Alexandria," he then points to Daryl, "This is Daryl Dixon, he is my first mate and second in command."

Rick then tilts his head over to Michonne and pauses briefly, "This is Miss Brownfield grand champion at this year's Tournament of the Dead, and this is Miss Williams, co leader of the Alexandria Safe zone."

Rick then approaches Gregory and stands arm's length from him, "This is not a social call, and we will not partake in any drinks with you. You have my son and it would do me and my associates kindly if you just give him to me."

Gregory clears his throat a few times then reach inside his breast coat for a handkerchief and wipes his mouth, he was intimated by the mere presence of the group especially, this Rick Grimes person. He takes a step back from the man, and another just in case as he has noted that Rick rested his hand on his gun again.

"A boy was just brought here a few minutes ago; I did not know he was your son. I am so sorry, I will have Enid wake him and bring him down."

Rick lifts his hand in the air, "You best hurry."

Gregory refolds his hanky and places it back in his coat and calls out to Enid, he was about to call out to her when a girl about Carl's age walks out from the back room.

"The boy that was brought here I need you to wake him up, his father is here."

"Take me to him," Rick says to the girl. The girl nods and leads Rick upstairs.

"Any funny business, anything at all, you kill him," Rick says to Daryl, Daryl nods his head.

Gregory raises his hand in the air, "Hey, hey, hey, I assure you no funny business. I welcomed you in my own home with open arms, remember. I even let you keep your guns and whatever else you have hidden among yourselves."

"We'll see," Daryl says.

Rick follows the girl inside the room and there he was, his son, Carl asleep in his bed. Rick lets out a sigh of relief and rushes in the room; he sees an empty bowl on the nightstand.

'At least he ate something.' He thought when he takes a seat on the bed, Carl stirred when the bed shifts but doesn't wake.

Nearly six months has gone and it was like seeing a new person, Rick was near tears when he saw the deep red scars on his face. He takes a deep breath. Carl look so much older too; must have been the hair as it was longer and a darker brown, just like his mother. Rick reaches out and gently shakes and calls out to him, to no response.

"Carl. I'm here," Rick says only for Carl to mumble something but he does not open his eyes.

Enid moves closer in the room, "He came to us really tired and weak, he was awake for just a moment, told me who he was, and he did manage to eat the bowl of soup. He's been marked, hasn't he? I didn't fully cook the meat at the order of Negan, hope that was okay, he did eat everything so I guess it was."

Rick grinds his jaw at the mention of Negan but says nothing to that bit of information.

"There is some medicine for his face, "Enid reach inside her apron and hands Rick the vile, "And something for the pain too. He kept saying it hurts. The clothing he had on were in tatters so I threw those out. Found something from the neighbors, a little big but…" Enid voice trails off.

"Thank you." Rick stands, picks up his son, and carries him out the room and down the stairs.

"Let's go," he said to the three pairs of eyes of the people still standing at the foyer concern written on their faces.

"Mr. Grimes, it has been a pleasure." Gregory calls out to Rick as they left, Rick shifts his son in his arms and scowls back at the man.

* * *

They were leaving Virginia that night and traveling to New York for some business meetings. Rick had kept rescheduling them with the Governor and city officials. But most importantly, he was going to New York for the cell Eric was making for him with hopes to be back as soon as they could. He has left a three man team to stay behind to do a bit of recon since they have not found _The Scream of Lucille_ as of yet.

They were at the bottom of the dock saying their goodbyes. Rick apologizes for Jesus not being there in saying his farewell but they understand. Rick thanks Mr. Williams for allowing them to dock to make repairs and any and all help he has offered in getting his ship in working condition; Tyrese shrugs it off.

The two men shake hands before Rick hands Tyrese an envelope, Tyrese eyes the envelope, the outlining shaping out the thickness of cash and he frowns.

"What's this?" he asks.

"For the inconvenience," Rick says urging the envelope in his hand.

Tyrese shakes his head, "No, don't need it. Just glad you got your son back safely. If you need help, we are here."

"And that is why I am giving you this; trust me when I say I will be calling for aide if I know I will need it."

Tyrese still won't take it and Rick understands but he insists on it and slips the envelope in Tyrese coat.

Michonne gives Sasha a hug as they promise to stay in contact and call when the moment arise, she then leans in and give Tyrese a hug as well and walks back up the ship. Tyrese stand off to the side and waits, he knew his sister can be hard headed and speaks the first thing that comes to mind and was slightly surprise that she and Daryl would get along so well. Daryl was awkwardly avoiding Sasha's penetrating stare. What a change from their first meeting, he wasn't sure what to say as he was never good with farewells.

Sasha slowly walks up to Mr. Dixon and smirks up at him, her brown eyes searching his blue. Sasha smiles when she sees the corner of his mouth lift up. She hands him an envelope and places a hanky in his pocket. She then leans in and whispers something in his ear, Daryl raise his brow as he listens, she moves back and gently place her hand on his cheek and leaves it there for a moment then removes it. Sasha then turns to give Rick a reassuring squeeze on his arm and then moves off to stand by her brother.

It was the three of them casually leaning over the ship with Michonne in the middle of them. They were watching the Williams of Alexandria walk away; their silhouettes and shadows cast by the lights from the lamps soon but disappear. The deck was a bustle of movement and noises behind them as the crew got things ready for departure. Rick had wanted to say something about what he had just witnessed but Michonne had beaten him to it.

"This is all so sudden," It wasn't really because Michonne has always known, "When did all this happen because Sasha **never** spoke highly and fondly of you." Michonne teasingly says as she nudges Daryl in the shoulder.

"So Daryl and Miss William eh, she has feelings for you and you…have feelings for her?" Rick innocently inquires.

This was a conversation Daryl wants to avoid especially with two people that could stare at each other wantonly on a daily basis, Daryl wanting to point that out but he figure it would probably embarrass Michonne.

Daryl pushes off the ledge of the ship and faces them.

"Yeah, I do." Daryl eyes them each individually and doesn't add anything more. He then walks off, to the wheel of the ship already setting the coordinates.

"Well isn't that something, we all having something common?" Michonne declare to the both of them.

"And that is?" Rick said

Michonne got serious, "Sasha has feelings for Daryl and he for her, just like you have feelings for me."

"Of course I have feelings for you. I have different kinds of feelings and each one more pleasant than the other." Rick says good-naturedly a smile slowly growing at the corner of his mouth.

Michonne thought for a moment as she pushes off the ledge, "Rick you should tell me about those different feelings of yours." She then stops and eyes the ring still on his finger letting him knows the obvious elephant on deck.

Rick says nothing and Michonne nods her head, "Just as I thought, I'm going to see what kind of sweets Eugene has in that kitchen of his and maybe something for Carl too, see if I can get him to eat something."

She was halfway down the stair leading below when Rick stops her "Michonne, wait." Rick ran up to her.

"There is something here."

"As clear as day," she added.

Rick chuckles, "I have my son back and we still don't know who has your father's documents. That mean you'll have to stick around me and my boring ship a little bit longer. That's reasons to get to know each other even more."

Michonne raises her brow, "More than what we've been doing in each of our quarters?"

Rick shrugs in defense and he quickly begins to speak, "I don't know your favorite color but I think I can guess what it is, purple right? I know how you take your tea, where your favorite reading spot is. Your favorite perfume, you find comfort in taking a turn around the ship with Eugene, now I'm not sure how I feel about that, actually I do not like that. Lavender calms you and-."

Rick stops, he actually knows more about her than he realizes.

Listening to Rick talk about her, her whereabouts and how well he know things about her sent flutters to her heart and she just wants to kiss him right there.

Michonne raise her brow and smirks, "Something is clearly here."

Rick moves closer to her and reaches out to her playing with the tail end of her hair she had fashioned into one long braid.

"Well you've been stuck under a rock for a long time. I wasn't sure if you knew the rules to courting."

Rick chuckle "Courting? And here I am ready to go the minute you said you didn't want nice. Had I known?"

This was true Michonne did not want nice but she certainly was willing to want some things with Rick Grimes. She did not respond to the obvious instead she turns back around and left him standing there.

Rick laughs as he watches her walk away, her pants did not hide anything and his eyes was fixed on one of the favorite parts of her body, the sway of her hips the roundness of it all. He clears his throat, turns, and makes his way to the bow of the ship and begins to shouts orders.

"Martinez make sure the engine room is ready and monitor the boiler, I don't want to overcompensate while in the air." He watches him leave, "Alright let's get her up, set course for the city of New York."

* * *

Father and son at last reunited, hooray.

So what do you guys think? Do let me know. Thanks.


	8. CH 7: Party Like A Rockstar

Code note - The transformation of Carl happens here and I just wanted to get it over - In _'An American Werewolf in London'_ I will never forget how David morphing into a werewolf. I don't think it's easy but a VERY painful process that with time becomes bearable. The details I have about the morphing will only be explained in this chapter alone (no future chapters, I think). I felt so bad doing this to Carl *sob*.

* * *

" **Party Like A Rockstar"**

Carl blinks his eyes and focuses in on the face in his room.

"Oh good, you're awake," she says and walks around his room, touching and opening things.

Carl watches her, "For the time being, I'm tired."

She makes her way towards him, "That's normal; you'll be sleeping a lot until you turn."

"Yes, the full moon is near," Carl says ominously then frown, "I've been hearing that and the word turn a lot lately."

"That's because it's near," Her eyes go round as saucers when she said near.

Carl says nothing to this.

"I always thought something magical happens on a full moon, especially if it falls on a harvest."

Again, Carl says nothing to that bit of news.

The girl smiles as she begins to spin around the room, "We got these stars and planets and wonders in front of our very eyes, it's beautiful, I never thought the moon to be spooky too."

"Can you stop spinning; I can't seem to focus on you like you're all over the place."

The girl stops spinning and got serious, "A spooky moon for a werewolf."

"I wouldn't say spooky. I am scared."

"Exactly!"

"You're not making any sense."

She shrugs her shoulders and walks around his room again, "So I've been told."

"If you've been told this then maybe try speaking clearly," Carl suggested.

She looks at Carl and frowns, "That's because like them you're not listening. How are you feeling?"

Carl shrugs his shoulders and winces in pain, "I feel fine, normal."

She smirks, "Normal? But you're no longer normal, Carl. Tell me, how you are really feeling."

"Like shit, everything hurts and for some reason everyone is so damn loud, it's giving me a headache."

"All the aching you're feeling is your bones. You'll have better senses and you should be able to practically hear a pin drop soon enough. Can you see me?"

Carl blinks a few times, "Not really," he pauses to study her, "You're pretty."

"Do you remember me?"

"I haven't lost my mind if that's what you're asking. You look kind of fuzzy but still pretty."

The girl chuckles and makes her way toward him and takes a seat beside him. "I haven't heard that one, fuzzy and pretty."

Carl's stomach grumbles, "I am hungry. Would you let my dad or Michonne or someone know? It seems they are the only ones that want to be near me."

"Don't take it personal, it was a request by your father, he is an intimidating man but good, he loves you."

Carl has always known this, "He is quite intimidating, the whole beard thing is new too and I know he loves me, I love him too."

"Daryl has visits, but you're asleep when he comes by and I did see Michonne on her way to the kitchen to get you something so hunger no more."

"Good," Carl said.

"Tell me something Carl, how are your dreams?"

Carl does not want to think about his dreams, "My dreams are scary, confusing. I dream about death, dying and my mother too."

She is again moving about his room, "Your mother? Really, tell me about her."

Carl frowns, "I would rather not."

"Talking helps." She reaches out and tries to moves his hair from his face.

The sudden movement startles Carl as she was just walking around his room and now here she isright in front of him.

Carl then moves his head away from her; he did this only from her trying to touch his face, "Don't do that."

"Does your face bother you?"

"It bothers me and everyone else; I can see it written on _their_ faces. Pity, sadness."

She leans forward just a few inches separate the two, "And what does my eyes say when I see you as you."

Carl looks into her eyes and saw nothing and felt disappointment, "I see nothing."

She blinks her eyes, "And now?"

He can see himself in her eyes now but with her. They were sitting somewhere, a field maybe. He was saying something to her that made her laugh, "I am confused, how the hell did you do that?"

She shrugs, "It's how you want people to see you Carl."

"So, you see me courting you or something."

She laughs, "Courting, that sounds so ancient and sweet."

Carl laughs too.

She began to gently shake him, "Carl?"

"Hmm?"

"Carl? Wake up, wake up Carl."

"I'm awake."

"Nice try." The voice says, "That would involve you opening your eyes."

Focusing his eyes again Carl realizes that the girl was gone and it was Michonne leaning over him shaking him.

"Where did she go?" He asks looking around his room.

"Who?" She inquires confusion written on her face while opening the curtains in his room. Sunlight pours in, shedding all senses of gloom from the room.

"The girl with the red hair, or reddish blonde, I can't tell."

"Sorry kiddo, it's just me. I do hope that's okay." Michonne walks back to the table where a seating for one was laid out and takes a sit and pour a cup of tea.

"Ah yes, Michonne you're good company." Carl says as he sits up to get out of bed.

"Good. Because I thought you only like me because I make sure you are fed."

Carl laughs then takes a seat across from her and lifts the serving dome off from his plate, "What did Eugene make for me."

"A whole meat pie with little less veggies, per you request. Speaking of eating, I thought afterwards we two can go outside and take in some good ole fashion natural city air."

"About **that** city air…" His voice trails off.

Michonne takes a sip from her cup, "Yes, tell me about **that** city air."

"Which kind of city air are we in?"

"Well we're in New York for a few days, so good ole New York city air. You can see several buildings being built on the horizon, a triangular piece right at the heart of the city."

Carl sigh, "Can I just stay here?" He takes a huge bite of his meal.

Michonne detects pieces of raw meat in the golden crust and wonder how Eugene manages to bake a crust so perfectly and leaving all that meat bloody raw.

"You can but you've been hiding in this room for nearly a week now. Vitamin C and D would do you good."

Carl had no intention of going outside, "You say **hiding** like it's a bad thing."

"Well isn't it."

"Not for me it's not."

Carl truly like Michonne, introducing herself as simply Michonne and he has been calling her that ever since. Within just the short time of officially meeting her she had managed to fill in the holes of everything they have done in getting him back. She had painted a better picture than his dad. She had even spoken of herself as an omen that has yet to turn sour and thought it best moving forward for everyone to think of her as good luck; she looked right at Daryl when she said that only to have Daryl look away. Carl couldn't help but to laugh since he was all too familiar with Uncle Daryl and his vices especially that any women on the ship being bad omen. What he likes the most about Michonne was that she didn't push or pressure and he doesn't mind when she visits.

Michonne can see that his hair was covering part of his face and contemplates bringing up trimming his hair but changes her mind, "Scars fade."

Nearly done with the first plate Carl can sense her watching him, "Not these scars."

"Well how about air of mystery."

Carl reaches for the second dome plate and lifts the cover off and unsurprisingly, it's another meat pie. The darn thing tastes so damn good and Carl hate himself for salivating for it.

"I'm a mystery? How can that be when everyone knows what I'll become?"

"That is true but you don't have to make that side of you bring you down."

"I'm not down or sad Michonne, I'm angry."

"I have this saying when someone talks of anger: Anger makes you stupid and stupid gets you killed."

"Well my anger is from a place of rage and I am aware."

"Well that is good, it is also alarming, but I can understand," she said as she takes another sip from her cup.

"I don't think you understand at all."

Michonne sighs and places her cup back on the saucer, "Carl I am all too familiar with anger coming from a place of rage. I have had anger too and it has all came from a place of rage and frustration. Look at this place, the times are changing and yet places still continue to treat us Black people differently, unfairly, unjust and it is especially hard for Black women. So, I wise up, I change the rules and made a name for myself and I was smart about it and you can be smart about it too without having to get yourself killed over it."

Carl was quiet. _She's right_ , he thought, "Michonne?"

"Carl?"

"I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted."

"But I am going to kill him."

Michonne knew this **him** he speaks off and nods her head, "I believe you."

"Don't get in my way."

Michonne chuckles, "Seeing the way you eat, there is no way I would want to get in your way."

Carl stops the fork mid air and looks down at himself; a huge area of his shirt was covered in sauce, "Okay so I'm a mess, no harm in a bit of cleaning up afterwards."

"Good idea, clean up and then fresh city air. Good ole city air," Michonne inhales and exhales to prove her point.

Carl sighs, god only knows he's been sighing a lot, "Michonne I hurt all over and I just want to sleep after I eat."

Michonne places her cup back on its saucer and sits back, "ALL I hear are reasons not to go out there. Pain is a state of mind Carl."

"Yeah well this pain is to the bones and channeling it won't do me any good."

Michonne wasn't going to push the issue anymore and told him so, but she could see Carl's mind was busy working; he was beginning to rub his forehead and doing the half frown half scowl like his father.

"Your father is doing everything he can to make sure you do no harm to yourself and others," Michonne says in reassurance.

"I see it and I hear it, you guys should try whispering."

Michonne raises her brown, "But we do whisper."

"Well I can hear **everything**." Carl made sure to emphasize on the word everything as he eyes Michonne, his mind was working, "If I do this fresh air bit with you, you'll never ask me about it again?"

"Well," Michonne dragged on the word well before continuing, "I am not sure I won't ask again but we can work out the terms of this deal later."

"Ha! I have some terms," Carl says waving the whole thing away; he wanted to talk about something more serious and that involves his dad and not city air.

"Really? That was fast or you must have been thinking about it."

"I wasn't kidding when I said I can hear **everything**."

Michonne whispered "He's going to change his mind" under her breath.

Carl smile at what she said, "You have my word Michonne, I won't back out, and I'll go outside if you answer this."

Michonne's eyes go round, she barely spoke the words of him backing out but Carl was able to pick up on it. _'This should be interesting'_ she thought while getting comfortable in her seat and wait for Carl to ask her whatever it is that he needed the answer too.

"Michonne, I've heard the way my dad speaks of you and seen the way you are together the few times you've both been in the room together, something is evidently up between you and my dad."

"Is that a question or stating an observation?"

"Well it's both. What is it then, you and dad are…" Carl ends it there and digs into his plate of food.

"Your father and I are…Something; some things are up with your father and me," she confesses, "Did he avoid the conversation with you when you've brought it up with him?"

Carl looks up, his food mid level to his mouth, well he wasn't expecting her to answer, he really thought she was going to work herself right into a whole different conversation.

"No, I took a chance and asked you but I had every intentions of asking him."

"What made you decide to ask me?"

"Because you don't mince your words and dad speaks fondly of you, **all** the timeand especially the way he looks at you too. You both don't think I'm looking but I see everything and I don't want to get into the details of your nightly conversations."

Michonne is all too familiar with Rick's stares and chuckles, "Are you sure you're not confusing that look he gives me with one of his intense stares."

Carl laughter rang out in the room. "Intense stares my ass, I know those ones too. I'm talking about the looks of love."

Michonne nearly chokes and not from the curse word; she'll give him a pass for that one, "What do you know of looks of love."

Carl shrugs, "I know enough, saw a bit of it when my parents were happy. I'm happy he is happy again; he is not as hard on the crew as before. I approve."

"You approve? But we don't even know what all this is."

Carl nod, "Yes, I approve, you're good in my book. Besides you're not going anywhere and neither is my dad, he is kind of slow in the whole courting game, I am pretty sure he is just making things up along the way. It's been a while for him."

"I cannot believe I am having this conversation with you."

"I'm not ten and I see things, so who better than having this kind of conversation with the son himself. Wait until you meet grandmother and we all know she would want to meet you."

Michonne is all too familiar with the role of mother she could not wait to see how her mother speaks to Rick.

Carl was thoughtful for a minute, "Has my dad ever told you how he lost his arm?"

Michonne shakes her head.

"Hmm now that was a dozy, scandal and everything. I'm surprise he hasn't told you yet. It's one of the reasons, may have been the only reason he sent me away to flight school at a young age."

Michonne would rather hear from Rick on how he lost his arm. They spoke about her childhood, the tournament, and Carl few good times he had at flight school, the girls he had his eyes on and the classes he was excelling in.

After he ate, Michonne thought Carl was going to try to excuse himself from walking the deck of the ship, but true to his words Michonne left Carl be so he could clean up and be ready to breathe in some good ole city air.

* * *

Rick and Daryl had just walked into the building and demanded an audience Governor of New York and her lackeys as it was the only available time they had. They had never seen the city official assistants scramble around to get the movers and shakers to their meeting.

The coffee that sat before him has already gone cold; Rick tried to pay attention _'I am here may as well brave through all this ass kissers.'_ Rick thought as he sat through the meeting all the while fiddling with his pocket watch, wondering what Michonne and his son was doing, wondering if crew and _The Bandit Hunter_ were okay. Rick notices Daryl trying to stifle a yawn; this meeting was a courtesy and a snooze fest as they tried to listen to the city officials sweet talk their way into their pockets again with some questionable investments. However boring the meeting may have been, Rick and Daryl forge through it; both evidently glad once it was concluded.

As they are leaving, Rick turns to see Governor Monroe and her two bodyguards were walking down the marble steps to meet up with them.

"Look sharp Rick, another desperate plea in reconsideration is about to happen," Daryl whispers.

Once reaching them, The Governor sticks her gloved hand out and smiles, "It is always a pleasure to see you both. We should do lunch."

"The pleasure is ours," Daryl said and takes her hand briefly before releasing it.

"Would you let the office know if you can make lunch next week?" she presses further.

Daryl raises his brow and gives Rick an 'I knew it' look.

"Governor, I cannot guarantee nor commit to anything for this or next week or anytime in the near future as our time is scarce. I was only here to pick up something then we are off but I'll have our assistant call your office to see if we can schedule something," Rick replies.

Daryl raises his brow as if to ask what assistant, but Rick discreetly shakes his head at him.

"Wonderful, wonderful." She gleefully smiles.

Opting not to make a show of saying bye by bowing or kissing her gloved hand, Rick raise his cane and tips his hat to the Governor, "Always a pleasure, Governor."

The doorman opens the door for them and wishes them both a nice day, as they respond in kind. The two men exit the office building and Rick looks up at the recently installed clock tower in all its shiny brass glory he then pulls out his pocket watch to make sure the time was the same, feeling satisfied he places his watch back in his breast pocket and they make their way to their bikes.

"God, I hate going to those things. I swear they only see dollar signs," Daryl points out as he removes his top hat and places it in the compartment under his seat. Rick closes his cane and drops it in the compartment with his top hat and coat; he was already lifting the kickstand to his bike.

Daryl faces Rick, "Well caveman Rick, you know, since we are in the city maybe you could groom that mop of hair on your head and all that on your face too." Daryl motion with his hand the bottom half of his face, "I have never seen it this long."

Rick chuckles, "Caveman Rick, what are you trying to say? It's not that bad?"

"Not bad? Rick it was a meeting, so I thought you'd, you know, do something with all that." Daryl makes another motion of circling his face.

Rick thought of how the ladies in the office building were looking at him, they were all smiling and fidgeting with their collars. He could have sworn that one of the assistants had even inhaled sharply when he had asked what room the meeting was in. He thought he sensed their eyes following them all the way up the stairs too. Rick took that as a good sign.

Rick eyes the close crop cut of Daryl's hair, "So you would favor something more like yours? Is it even in fashion?"

Daryl laughs as he touches his head, "What do you even know about fashion? At least my hair doesn't get in the way of things."

"Says the man who, as of late, been fussing with his appearance since meeting Ms. Williams? Besides I've gotten no complaints, ladies love these curls," Rick chuckles.

' _Well one in particular,'_ Rick thought.

Daryl raises his brow at the ladies loves part, but says nothing; instead, he takes the portfolio Rick hands him and places it below his hat and closes the seat compartment, "You really want to look over them?"

"I enjoy how quickly you can change the subject when I bring up Ms. Williams."

"I can bring up Ms. Brownfield just as easily."

With a huge grin on his face, Rick sits idly on his bike and crosses his arm, "Sure, what would you like to know?"

"Okay then, fine. So is it serious because you still have the ring on your hand?"

' _Well damn to hell Daryl really went there,'_ Rick thought.

Daryl then went in for the kill, so to speak, "Well if it is any consolation or **grief** , half the crew is also in awe of Ms. Brownfield. Seems like some of the unwed have a bit of feelings for her. So there is that."

The smile was replaced with a scowl on Rick's face. Reaching up towards his face he begins to scratch at his beard with his prosthetic hand, "You know, at first I thought she didn't want nice, just the other day I think she was hinting at wanting something more."

Daryl frowns at Rick, "So you're taking advantage of Ms. Brownfield?"

"Oh Christ no, I would never do that. I care for Michonne deeply, too deeply in fact."

"Well figure it out before someone finds out and turns it into another scandal." Daryl did not want to remind Rick of the past, but he probably needed a reminder.

Rick grimaces at how the mood has shifted from silly banter to prickly thoughts of the past. Daryl really did not want to know anything as he regretted bringing up the whole new appearance thing with Rick. Now he was eager to change the subject.

"Listen, it's your life which is far from boring, tell her how you feel."

"Well hell Daryl, look at you. Giving me all kinds of advice."

Rick, feeling thoughtful, begins to press a few buttons on his bike; the engine roars.

' _Guess the conversation is over,'_ Daryl thought as he follows suit.

Daryl then changes the subject, "Rick, we did well in steel. Maybe something good is somewhere in all that paperwork," he shouts as he lifts the kickstand to his bike.

"Well, no harm in looking at it then maybe something would catch the eye."Rick shouts over the noise of their bikes.

Their bikes hovers idly as the two men simultaneously place their gloves, goggles and helmets on.

Rick looks over at Daryl with a grin on his face.

Daryl frowns and shouts "Don't! For the love of God please."

Rick has already link the music to his helmet and there it was, some guy singing his action being packed blasting through the men helmet speakers. He snaps his fingers to the beat of the music.

' _Where does he find this kind of music if it's even called that.'_ Daryl wonders.

Daryl tries to turn the darn thing off but Rick had locked the setting, he probably has the darn thing on loop too."How are we going to know if the ship sends a message if that is blasting?"

"We'll hear them just fine, just enjoy the music," Rick answers back.

"I'm gonna kill you and I'll enjoy doing that," Daryl shouts at him.

"Last one back is a rotten egg," Rick shouts back instead.

"What are we? Ten? That's really childish Rick; I'm not doing this shit with you," Daryl shouts, but then he shifts the gear with his right wrist and takes off before Rick could say otherwise grinning as he speedsoff.

The two men were arguing about who was the true winner as they park their bikes below deck. They were still going at it as they made their way up the narrow corridors stairs leading to the top of the deck.

"Grown man cheating is what I say," Rick said and playfully taps Daryl head with his cane.

"Hey those are dueling words," Daryl pointed out.

"Do you even know how to duel?" Rick asks.

The men stops in their tracks as they took in the sight in front of them. Michonne was walking about the deck with Carl; the crew were trying to look busy as they were in awe like them as well. Rick caught her eyes and she tilts her head towards Carl.

"Holy shit, how did she get him to leave his room?" Daryl exclaimed.

Rick shakes his head and looks at Michonne in astonishment.

* * *

It was the evening of the full moon and everyone on _The Bandit Hunter_ were busy and in arms with each other. Michonne had just gotten back from the city; she was there to ship a parcel to her parents, she even had a moment of déjà vu when she left the postal office. She could have sworn she saw the girl that was watching over Carl back at the Hilltop. She was walking across the street from her but thought nothing of it. When she walks back on the ship she could tell how everyone on the ship was walking on eggshells around the two men. They were short with each other and everyone else. Daryl was feeding off of Rick's energy and Rick was doing the same.

Daryl mutters his apologies first just to get it out of the way but Rick did apologize when he knew he was in the wrong but he gave up after the fifth one. No one was safe, not even poor Eugene and all he wanted to know is if he should have food brought down to Carl. The only one they spared was both Michonne and Jesus because they knew better. Jesus was in the middle of explaining the modification he made to a few nitro charge clips he had fabricated, the whole point was to maim Carl and not explode at point of entry, and they were instructed to only use if things go horribly wrong. He had also playfully mention how extra slippery his hands had been and Michonne was too fast with her sword; they wouldn't have felt the sword piercing body parts until afterward. Yeah, Rick and Daryl knew better.

They had already moved Carl to the cell they had assembled in his cabin a few hours ago; Rick couldn't bear watching Carl enter so he left immediately after. Michonne had even tried to make everything comfortable for him. A cot was in the corner and a tray with all his favorite food was placed on a small table. Carl did try to lie down but even that hurt and he wasn't that hungry. He touched the bars and his fingers were singed by the mere contact.

"Okay, avoid the bars," he says out loud.

The hair on the back of his neck felt prickly as he felt his senses begin to heighten. He began to pace back and forth; he was doing this when the girl that had visited him from before wanted to stay and chat.

"Hi," he says and tries to smile but his face felt uncomfortable.

"Hi," she said with a bit of sadness.

"Why are you sad? I'm the one in the cell."

"Because I am."

"Now who's the one feeling pity for me now?" Carl made an attempt to frown but gives up and begins to pace again.

"I'm not feeling sorry for you, I am sad because I can't help you."

"No one can help me."

"Your father seems to have the right idea. It will be painful for you both," she eyes the pieces of flesh stuck to the cell.

"I know, stay away from the bars."

"You'll stay away from it. For now," she shrugs her shoulder.

Carl stops pacing and scratches his forehead then at his arm; he wasn't really itchy. "What's your name again?"

"You forgot already? I asked you if you remember me," she sulks as she leans into the cell but doesn't touch it.

"I thought it was about something else."

"No, it wasn't. I am whoever you need me to be."

Carl doesn't know what he need as he starts to scratch behind his ear and begin to pace the floor again, "I need a friend. Can you be a friend and get me something for this pain."

She abruptly faces Carl, "I will always be your friend."

The sudden movement of the girl startles Carl and he steps back, "Could you stop doing that."

"I can't help it, it's my thing." She steps back

"Well your **thing** is annoying."

"That hurts but I will give you that one."

Carl says nothing and once again begins to pace. He really tries to make an attempt to carry a conversation with her but he wasn't in the mood for company as the pain was starting to get uncomfortable. She gives him her word that she'll return and left him.

Sitting hurts and pacing seems to calm the anxiety he's feeling now. Then everything around Carl got unbearably loud, the way his feet hits the floor, the wind in the sails, he could even hear his dad giving orders like he was right there screaming it in his ear, he covers his ears with his hands and screams for everyone to shut up. Then his sight begins to focus in on another room that seems so familiar yet couldn't place it. Then everything went in and out of focus, as he felt his pupils and irises shift. He shuts his eyes tightly and opens them again and frowns when that did not change anything.

"Great, my eyes move and I can't see shit." He kicks the cell and howls in pain as more pieces of his flesh stick to the bars. Carl stood there in fear and shock, he looks down at his toes where it once had his skin is now bloody but there wasn't any blood oozing from the wound.

' _Oh hell. I'm howling and I'm losing my skin. Oh this is bad, really really bad.'_ He can hear his heart beat each beat louder and faster.

"Okay, on top of the pain, my sight is going in and out. Hearing is at an ungodly level and now my own skin is slowly coming off. Now what?" Carl shouts in the empty room.

Sensing the cosmos may have heard him, the room begins to get hot and Carl realizes it wasn't the room but him, he was practically burning up, like hell is his new company. He strips down to his knickers but that did not help at all.

' _Brave through it Carl,'_ he tells himself as he went back to pacing and chews on his nails. He stops almost immediately when he hears movements above him. He focuses his attention on the footsteps as they come down the stairs and then to the hand reaching and opening his cabin door.

He had an audience of his dad, Michonne, and Daryl. Jesus soon follows and closes the door behind him. By this time Carl had chewed all the nails off his fingers, he didn't notice that they were a bloody mess and he is drenched from head to toe from his own sweat; his brown hair plastered to his head.

"Hey, dad," Carl tries to smile but the greeting fell short as he begins to pace again. He needs to relax. Things are happening and pacing helps to focus on something else; he tries to ignore the beating of his heart, it feels like it's about to explode. Then there is that low ringing in his ear. Carl scratches at his ears and the ringing grows louder.

"Hey, Carl," Rick says as he makes his way to the cell and wraps his hands around the bar.

"Don't! You'll burn your hand," Carl warns but when he saw his dad hands are okay, the realization registers.

"Good thinking, I'd silver the whole damn place too," he says and begins to pace again.

The ringing in his ear grows louder. He stops in his tracks.

"This ringing won't go away and my heart feel like it's about to explode."

Carlthinks he can hear his dad say something but doesn't care; he is back to pacing the room again.

Carl stops mid pace and faces his dad. There is complete terror on his face as every single bone in his body shifts and cracks at the same time, it was subtle but agonizing. He felt his jaw crack and tries to soothe it but then the bones in his hands crack and dislocate themselves from each joint. At the same time, the bones at the back of his neck and along his spine and ribcage shift roughly forward and back and Carl screams in agony.

He can feel and hear every single bone in his body breaking within him, his legs, arms, eye sockets, every fucking thing. Carl falls to the floor and continues to scream for someone to take it away, to take the pain away. He says this as he rips at his skin, the flesh falls to the floor as hair follicles sprout then grow rapidly in its place. Carl wanted to die and express so verbally over and over again.

"Holy shit," Daryl says to both Michonne and Jesus.

"Holy shit is right," Jesus said in agreement. Michonne can almost taste her late lunch trying to make an appearance but she swallows a few times and gives herself a hug.

Carl arches his back as his spine shifts again, he raises his head which begins to elongate as he gets on all fours. His spine and legs shift then dislocate themselves and Carl falls to the floor again, the can feel his bones slowly realigns, everything felt like it was being pulled from its sockets, his hand and fingers, his legs too felt like they were being ripped out as they stretch and elongate on its own.

Rick was low to the ground on his stomach in tears calling out to his son; he could not believe what he is witnessing. A nightmare right before their very own eyes, but this is Carl, his son. Rick calls out to him again and again; he wanted him to know he was there. Rick had managed to get his son attention but one look in his eyes, that were once light brown but now a bright yellow, and Rick knew that he was no longer his, he has lost his son to the full moon.

Carl howls.

It felt like an eternity a painfully long ten minutes of horror and screaming and crying and now they were all staring at a werewolf. Standing on all fours, the werewolf lays his head low to the ground, the distinctive scars were prominent from eyes to snout, it was the only area that wasn't fully covered in fur. It begins to sniff at the pieces of flesh on the floor and begins to eat it, once everything was gone it then howls and rams at the cell, burning itself in the process. The room slowly smelling like burnt hair and flesh, the werewolf does this again and again but gives up and paces the room, his yellow eyes glaring at them all. Dumbfounded, they all stare as the animal growls low, foaming at the mouth, stops pacing and rams into the cell again; the yellow eyes continues to glare at them all. The werewolf then claws roughly at the ground leaving its claw marks there and howls, only to stop abruptly and rams itself into the bars again; it was trying to get out. Rick understands now why Jesus wanted to make the spaces lengthwise smaller.

Emotions were running high in the room, especially with Rick, he is on his back quiet, listening to hisson, the animal howls as it claws and tries to ram his way out. He stares up at the ceiling of his son's room and makes a silent promise to kill Negan at the first change he got.

* * *

Dwight, Arat and Simon, from the safety of _The Screams of Lucille,_ watch as their leader changes quickly and goes off on a hunt and a chase.

"I bet you fifty bucks this Carl is having a really rough go with his turn," Simon says.

Dwight frowns, "No shit, all first times are a bitch, I'm not taking that stupid bet."

"Well I bet you Negan's going to kill a few Alexandrians tonight," Arat adds.

Both men turn to face her.

Simon thinks for a minute, "Three deaths."

Arat raises four fingers, "Four." Then she faces Dwight, "You want in on this bet Dwight?"

"Naw, I pass," he says and leaves the two and makes his way back to his cabin.

* * *

Again, a giant thank you to Siancore! What did you guys think, let me know. Code :)


	9. CH 8: The Rhythm of The Night part i

Code note: Hello all, it's been a minute and I am sorry. My laptop is slowly dying and then I lost wi-fi for a while during the thunderstorm. Life has gotten crazy and I thought why fight it when I can embrace its madness. I have not been responding to your comments/reviews and I am sorry about that, will try to correct that. If you were wondering what happened to Codename-m.e on tumblr, well I delete it. You can find me on twitter (em29me).

What did you think of Chapter 7, (yes it says 8, my fault will fix that) Carl is now a werewolf. Spooky…

Now about this chapter; Siancore thought it was good to break this chapter into two parts and I agree.

* * *

" **The Rhythm of The Night" part i**

Slowly sailing above the night sky, the fullness of the moon and the hazy fog casts an eerie glow on somber crew on deck. This all hurts the crew very much; some of these men did not have family and Rick, his son Carl, and Daryl were their family and it pained them. Most were there when Carl was born, Rick came on deck to introduce his first born, gave them all an extra pay and handed each man a bottle of whiskey. Oh they celebrated well that evening.

They were all there for all or most of his birthdays and they all had some kind of advice for his first day at Flight Academy too. Yeah, the loyal and dedicated crew of _The Bandit Hunter_ was somber at present; a few tense and silent, but they were all prepared as they waited patiently for signs of activity below. And when it happens, when they hear the agonizing screams from Carl, and they all look to each other.

"Look sharp people," Abe says, as he hops off the plank he was standing on and readies his gun, "We need to make sure no one comes out of that room."

The plan was simple: Rick would not risk anyone else getting hurt in the process. _Keep the situation contained_ , he said over and over again, _No one gets in and no one gets out, if anyone gets out kill them; him included._

During the course of the long night, no one on that ship slept as they waited for the end of darkness. But at last, dawn broke and it happened right at the moment the first light broke through the windows of Carl's cabin. Everything they had witnessed the night before was now done in reverse. They all stood there seeing Carl as he was once again, they watch as he changes back and everything that had happened the night before was like looking at it on repeat, but in a backwards manner. Even the reappearance of his flesh; the hair follicles getting smaller and smaller and in its place was skin.

There was a significant amount of relief in the room. Michonne would never forget Rick's tears. It was her to wipe them away when she was able to get him off the floor. She will never forget the screams and the way each bone cracked and dislocated from Carl's sockets.

Of all the books Daryl had poured through, reading and researching could not prepare him in what he, and they, had all witness. He realizes they need to document what happened for posterity. He places the safety back on and holsters his gun and faces Jesus and says as much, "We need to document this."

Jesus agrees as he sits back down in the chair. A thought crossed his mind about how well the cell would hold; he was confident that it would stand, but there was moment during the night when the werewolf had rammed itself so hard he thought he saw a piece giving way. He will have to survey for any damages and fix them immediately as they have a few more nights of this.

Rick stood up staring at his son as he lays there in a fetal position in silence. "Open it," Rick says quietly.

"Rick, we should wait just until the sun has fully come out," Daryl said while glancing at the window.

Rick grip the bars tightly, "I said open it."

Jesus gets up from his seat and walks over to the door of the cell, he was the only one who had the access code and he discreetly punches the series of numbers in. He then moves back so that Rick can enter. Rick squats down and calls out to Carl before reaching out and shaking him gently. Dreading the worst, Jesus didn't know he was holding his breath until he heard Carl's distinct voice.

Both stand up off the floor, Carl stretches, and an unmistaken crack is heard throughout the room, they all got tense at the sound.

"Well I guess you guys survive the night." Carl was trying to make light of the situation but if only he knew how scary the night was.

 _Shit, one night down how many more to go. If I survive this I'm going to ask for another raise and a much needed holiday,_ Jesus thought as he watches father hugs son.

"Do you remember anything?" Daryl asks as he makes his way inside the cell and hands him an over shirt.

Carl thanks him. "I remember my bones breaking and the pain." He stops to put the shirt on, "That's pretty much it. What happened?"

He didn't get an immediate response.

"You became a werewolf Carl, it was…" Michonne begins, but stops and hugs herself again. "I'm really glad to see _you_ as you again."

"So what did I look like, I mean sure a were is a were but anything different or new," Carl was truly curious and interested to know because he doesn't remember anything else about the night.

"Your eyes glowed this yellow, your fur was a dark brown and you were huge, like really big man," Daryl tries to emphasize the height by raising his hands up and down and sideways.

They omit sharing anything else as agreed upon.

Carl then brushes the hair away from his face and everyone was taken aback by the mere gesture, maybe he forgot about the raw scars on his face but then the next request he made really threw them off. When he faces and asks Michonne if she could trim his hair later that day.

"Absolutely, I'll get it set up right away before you change your mind." Michonne was surprised and happy that he was ready to share a bit of himself instead of hiding behind all that hair.

Carl inhales and exhales slowly and walks out of the cell, stretching along the way, "I feel so different, like I'm awake, aware and alert. I can hear so perfectly and my vision is that much clearer. I'm also famished. Please tell me Eugene has something, I feel like eating some steaks."

They all exchange wary eyes between one another.

Rick stops walking, "Steaks? Really? No more meat pie?"

Carl shakes his head, "Nope, I feel for a juicy steak with all the fixings too, have him fix a few mediums for me."

 _This is good, I think. Medium is sure as hell better than watching him eat raw meat,_ Rick thought.

"I'll send word for Eugene to make you a few," Rick says.

They all stood there in an awkward silence.

 _Okay folks, you can leave me alone now,_ Carl thought as he watches and waits for them to leave his room, but no one makes a move for the door.

Carl rolls his eyes, "Dad, I'm good. Daryl, Michonne. Jesus. Guys I am good. I'd like to clean up. Hopefully food will be here and Michonne you can cut my hair. Yes?" Carl says and smiles warmly and reassuringly.

Jesus was the first to leave, Daryl was not far behind him, then Michonne, but Rick stood there eyeing his son for a moment. His hand was rubbing at the stubble across his jaw line.

"Carl are you sure you don't remember anything?"

Carl purse his lips and shakes his head, "I really don't dad, sorry."

"Well maybe that is for the best," Rick makes his way to the door but then turns around, "You said something about being in another place."

"Another place?" Carl crinkle his forehead, "I really can't remember anything dad."

Rick accepts his response, "Okay, I'll have Eugene cook some steaks up for you then."

His dad finally left the room and Carl tries to avoid looking at the cell, but instead walks over to it and stares.

"You can come out now," Carl says to the person in the room.

"The girl steps out from the shadow and laughs, "How did you know I was here?'

Carl faces Enid and sniffs the air, "Your smell, you all have a different scent. I knew I wasn't alone."

"I smell? Well that can't be good." Enid steps back.

Carl laughs, "No it's not a bad scent, you smell like oranges and the kitchen, flour seasoning and meat." Carl smirks as his eyes glow and he leans into her and pretend to take a bite out of her.

Enid jumps back, frightened by the action and those glowing eyes of his; she tries to smack him on the shoulder which he easily blocks, "That wasn't funny Carl; I was here the whole time. I saw you turn into a werewolf."

Carl makes his way to his trunks looking for something to wear, "Oh, I know you were here the whole time."

Enid watches Carl and this sudden air of confidence of his, "I heard you talking to yourself too."

"Was I? Did I answer myself too?"

Enid pauses, "I, I don't know. It was quite perplexing."

Carl looks her way for a moment before pulling things out of his trunk, "Guess I'm going crazy."

Enid walks over and sits in the chair at his desk, idly playing with his compass, "Add crazy plus being a werewolf to the list." She looks up to see Carl frowning at her.

"Sorry," she said quickly but she was still playing with his compass, a gift from his dad for passing his first flight course.

"Can you put that down before you break it," Carl was annoyed now, "Why they don't know you're on the ship yet is mind boggling. Daryl is slipping; he thinks it's a bad omen to have women on the ship."

Enid places the compass back on his desk, "Michonne is on the ship. I see no omen." Enid indicates the obvious.

That was Daryl's thing, it did not mean his dad had to abide by it. "She is on the ship because of documents stolen from her and other reasons too, I guess."

By inviting _other reasons_ in the conversation was enough for Enid to encroach more on the matter, "She has really taken to your dad and he's taken to her too, don't you think?"

Aware she had approached this topic delicately she was expecting a response from him on the matter but Carl offers nothing.

His stomach grumbles loudly and Enid giggles, "Well at least there is your appetite."

Carl frowns, "Yes, there is that." Holding his clothing in the air, "Well I am about to get cleaned up here…"

Enid takes the hint and walks to his door but stops and turns back around, "It was fascinating to see you turn into a werewolf, Carl. I felt you were in there somewhere."

Carl didn't understand that last comment Enid made but she left his room before he could ask her what she had meant.

* * *

Michonne was busy concentrating on getting Carl's hair cut just the way he wanted. Yet, with a purposeful, though slight slip of her hand, she had no choice but to take a little more from each side and from the front too. She had gone a little higher than he had initially wanted.

"Aww so handsome, look at those eyes," she says, taking a step back to look at her handiwork from all angles. Feeling satisfied, Michonne removes the pieces of cloth from around his neck. With a huge smile on her face she reaches for the mirror and hands it to him.

She silently observes Carl while he moves his hair forward and backward; she saw that it barely touches his brow. He then rakes it away from his face again.

He places the mirror back down and stands up from the chair, "I really thought you'd mess this one up," Carl said teasingly.

Michonne helps Carl pick up his hair around the chair, "What! No way. I am good at what I do."

"If you're so good then how come dad's hair is the way is it?"

Michonne laughs, "You'd be surprised how much care your dad takes on his hair when he's out and about in public. He, how do you call it? Man-scapes, like the professionals at those bath houses."

Carl thought that bit of information regarding his dad was funny and laughs; he stops when he hears the meal cart outside and gets excited.

"Come on in Genie boy, I am starving," Carl smiles as he eyes the cart. Eugene enters pushing a cart with their mid-morning breakfast. He reaches for each tray of food and places it on the table.

"You really do amazing things Eugene; your meals are truly sublime."

Eugene eyes Michonne, wondering if she had anything to do with this praise. She shrugs her shoulders, "Sublime sir? Really? Well, thank you," Eugene beams.

' _Those steaks do look good. It's sure better for all of us to see this instead of all that blood in those meat pies.'_ Michonne thought as she eyes the piece of steak on Carl's plate.

Eugene places a tray across from Carl, "Ms. Brownfield, the Cap mention something about your stomach in knots so I thought you might want something light."

Michonne thought back to the werewolf eating its own flesh and purses her lips together, swallowing slowly.

"What's wrong with your stomach? Are you airsick?" Carl asks.

"I'll be all right."

Michonne watches Carl shrug his shoulders and cut into his piece of meat.

"I really hope Grimes didn't give you any grief about it, because I really am fine."

Eugene smiles, "It was like any other day, boot stomping, the whole lot." He does his best to mimic Rick's request, but it fell short. Both Michonne and Carl got the gist and still smile.

Michonne and Eugene speak lightly of what plans he has for the rest of the day, not wanting to lose anymore daylight. He tells them to enjoy their midday breakfast and leaves them.

Carl eats in silence, noting that Michonne has yet to uncover her dish; he surmises that her thoughts are somewhere else.

"Thought my dad was going to keep me company too."

"He is; he is going over the rotations log. Some men are due to return home for a week. Need to make sure we're covered," she says.

Carl nods his head; he was all too familiar with the protocols. It was mandated for only a few days by the military, in case they needed aide from any and all airships, but his dad felt a few days was an insult and gave his men a full week with pay.

Carl stares at the door, "Speaking of dad…" he trails off.

Then came a knocking at his door.

Daryl enters the room with Rick close behind. Rick, too busy looking at some kind of paper in his hand, runs right into Daryl.

"Sorry," Daryl says as he walks further into the room. Daryl gives Carl's new haircut a once over, then a nod of approval, "You did that?" he asks Michonne.

"Why so surprised, Dixon? Of course I did that," Michonne answers.

Rick was busy looking over the changes Daryl had made to each log, and was about to make a suggestion to him when he saw his son for the first time since dawn. His hair was away from his face; the scar wasn't as red and not as prominent. It was healing decently.

' _Well I do have to give it to the asshole ship doctor; he did one hell of a job fixing Carl's face.'_ Rick thought as he makes his way over to the table and sits down.

Taking in this new look of maturity, Rick realize that he wasn't looking at a ten year old anymore, and got sad for a second.

"There is the Carl, older, but still the Carl I know and remember," Rick says as he gets comfortable in his seat, "I hope you don't mind us having the meeting in here Carl; I think you should know our next course."

"I don't mind if you don't mind my suggestions," Carl says as he tilts his head to the side, a complete mirror image of his dad.

Rick chuckles, "Not at all. You know what," Rick slides the paperwork over to Carl, "Those are the rotation logs, ledger books," he slides a thicker packet over, "And there are some investments the Governor of New York wants us to look at."

Carl is shocked that his dad actually wants his opinion; he is also very excited, "Really?'

"Yeah, have at it," Rick raises his hand in the air, "You'll have to know these things anyway. This ship will be yours someday."

"Or, I'll have my own airship."

"Yeah, okay," Rick nods his head slowly, "Or this one."

"Okay dad, sure, sure." Carl, dismissing the whole thing, picks up the rotation log and ledger book and opens them.

Rick looks around the table, "Any coffee?"

"No, no, coffee here. Just tea, this picture of water," Michonne then lifts her tray and raises her brow in surprise; this was certainly not something light, "These delicious breakfast canapés and some fruit crepes…and Carl's steaks."

"Got it covered," Daryl responds, as he gets up and leaves the room.

"Eugene made you canapés crepes? Really? I specifically told him something light. You know, all I had time for was coffee and more coffee." Rick stares at Michonne untouched plate.

Michonne then lifts her fork at stabs at the piece of fruit and crepe and places it in her mouth, "Mmm-hmm and it's delicious too."

"I believe you. Eugene is really spoiling you."

Michonne takes another piece of food from her plate, closes her eyes and slowly chews her it; after swallowing, she opens her eyes, "So delicious, so good."

That small display got Rick uncomfortably hard.

Michonne saw the way Rick's face has gotten all flushed. Shechuckles, "I have no idea why you would think Eugene spoils me. He has amazing culinary skills."

"What will he do when you're not on the ship?" Rick inquires, as he nabs a canapé from her plate.

"The same as always, I'm sure: cooking for you. Or, should I offer him a job in my home?"

Carl is engrossed in the ledger book and tunes their loud voices out, but he is surprised by the sudden turn of the conversation; he looks at his dad first, then back at Michonne, "You're leaving?"

"Eventually Carl. As a matter of fact, I have to head home soon for some ball my mom orchestrated for me, but I'll be back. But, yes. Eventually, once everything is settled and straightened out."

Carl eyes his dad, "Michonne's **leaving** once everything is settled, Dad? She's leaving, Dad?" Carl stresses on the last two words, hoping his dad picks up on what he was putting out there.

That was not what Rick meant when he said what he said, but he can understand the distress on his son's face; the concern in his voice.

"Carl, what I have learned since meeting Michonne is that I must never tell her what to do and how she is to do it. Michonne knows that she can come and go as she pleases," Rick nabs another canapé from her plate and pops it in his mouth.

"These are really good." Then he reaches for another.

Michonne covers her plate, "No, no, no, get your own." She tries to block Rick's hand from stealing another one. Rick laughs; he managed to get another one.

"Rick!" Michonne exclaims as she smacks his hand.

' _Who are they fooling, and in my presence too? This is too serious to be nothing else, but what it really is.'_ Carl wonders as he observes the most obvious display of affection between his dad and Michonne.

"I don't know, dad," Carl says as he eyes them both, "I'm not sure you'll like that very much, for Michonne to come and go as she pleases. I mean, once she is gone, she's gone and it's done. It really doesn't sound like a stable relationship to me, but to each his own." Carl then shoves a piece of steak in his mouth and slowly chews, "That is really good."

Both Rick and Michonne stop laughing and turn to face him.

"Carl!" says Rick; he has a serious frown on his face.

"Yes, I did say all that, openly and honestly, but remember it's just us three. Better hearing it from me than from Daryl. And you know he'll blatantly point out the obvious and embarrass the both of you."

Rick was about to say something, but Carl stops him, "I'm sorry dad. That was rude of me. I'm sorry to assume the obvious warm and flirtatious nature between you and Michonne, truly sorry." But Carl wasn't one bit apologetic; all he knows was that he was able to get things churning in his dad's mind, and that is the only thing that matters.

Daryl returns with the coffee; he stops when he notices the atmospheric change in the room. There is a satisfied smugness on Carl's face.

Michonne is astonished at this thoughtful expression on Rick's face.

Daryl wrinkles his brow, "What did I miss? No, wait. Should I know?"

"Just this, "Carl pushes the ledger across the table, "Ledgers, barters and deals Daryl, fascinating stuff, boring as hell, but fascinating all the same," Carl answers.

' _Thank God. As long it doesn't get in the way of things,' Daryl thinks._

"Well alright then," says Daryl as he hands Rick his cup and pulls his seat out; he sits. "What is so boring and the fascinating? Break it down for us so we understand."

Carl begins with a specific line on the ledger, "If there is anything in that investment packet that involves this line item right here, I say invest."Part ii should be posted tomorrow :)


	10. CH 9: The Rhythm of The Night part ii

Code note: Well it took me a minute to post this but hooray here it is. Nothing pass you readers, I was trying to be subtle in Michonne, how do I say it, uhmm, her well being but I am not here to deny or confirm. BUT I am happy to say my second favorite couple is coming…Soon

* * *

The Rhythm of the Night part ii

It was a really good day, but it ends sad and somber when Carl went back in the cell. He wasn't too broken up about it.

"It has to be done," he says to them all.

Enid visits him again, but she doesn't stay. Eugene brings him his meal and they talk about his birthday and if his favorite flavor was still chocolate: It is. Carl completely forgets about his upcoming seventeenth birthday and with all the private planning he's been making, he wonders if he'll be alive to see his eighteenth.

Rick, Michonne, Daryl and Jesus; the four of them in Carl's cabin, will never be able to get use to the agonizing scream, nor the tormented face of the werewolf. It is the same plan every night: No one gets in and no one gets out. Each morning, Jesus would key in the access code and inspect the cell; once satisfied, he leaves and gives the word to the crew that everything went as expected.

This was the plan every night for the next four nights, and on each of those nights, something new happens during each change. Carl would say his sights are getting confused and say random things like street signs and hearing the sound of rushing water in the distance. It wasn't until the seventh night that Rick realizes that Carl may be connected to Negan. It was a hunch, really; but wasn't confirmed until Carl said the name _'Morgans Ale',_ that was the popular pub in Alexandria.

The next day, _The Bandit Hunter_ receivesan urgent message from Morales, one of the men Rick has left behind to keep an eye on things in Virginia. It seems the Alexandrians were being attacked by a werewolf at night, and antagonized during the day, by a group calling themselves _The Saviors_. Daryl did not hesitate in getting himself ready to make the trip back to Virginia, only asking for a few of the best; Rick gave him half. Running on no sleep, Daryl left.

Rick's back was to the wall; the Alexandrians sought aide. He wasn't sure how many more nights his son had to endure the change. Rick was enjoying Michonne's company. He has yet to resolve what is it that he really wants with her; there is that upcoming ball of hers, her father's missing documents, and he wasn't any closer to killing Negan. He sends word out to The Rhee's, hoping they were still in place and manning their battleship; _This Celluloid Dream_ was larger. Rick sends a note to the Governor on his unavailability for lunch, as well as his unexpected departure. He assures her he will return as soon as he is able to change course.

* * *

The days on ship were keeping Michonne restless; she needs to kill some things. She went looking for Rick and found him at the wheel of the ship with Carl; he was explaining what each button and knob controls.

She marches right up to them, "Rick I'm taking a bike and I'm going to kill some dead."

"Oh, I like that idea, can I come with?" Carl asks, getting excited at the thought of killing some of the dead too.

Rick was against the idea, and was about to voice his opinion on that with a NO, but then he stops; Michonne could have easily taken a bike and left, but she let him know what she wants to do. He watches her mannerism and notice she doesn't look upset; most likely frustrated about something, absolutely. Probably with him and something he did or didn't do.

"Well if it's okay with Michonne, you can go Carl."

They both face him in complete disbelief that he says that.

"What?" he asks, wanting to laugh but keeping a straight face, "Go kill something Carl."

He then goes back to watching the idles of the ship; he really doesn't like how the needle for the third engine keeps going up and down; he calls down to the engine room. When Rick looks back up, he sees that they are both gone; he gets the attention of Abe and Richard and calls them over.

"Look, Michonne and Carl are going out to kill some dead to blow off some steam; follow them at a distance, don't let them, especially Michonne, know you're following them, just make sure they don't fall into any problems."

"Will do," Abe says and both men leave.

Rick feels bad that he has to do this but two of the most important people in his life are going to be on the ground, so it's better feeling safe than sorry.

They return a few hours later and Rick was still at the wheel of the ship; the idle of third engine was giving the engine room listens to Carl, excited and animated, as he begins to tell Rick everything that has happened. It was nonstop; he uses his hands to mime some of the moves he and Michonne made; when Rick looks up to ask Michonne how her excursion went, she was already gone and that bothers Rick very much.

Abe and Richard return a few minutes later.

"Michonne is an enigma. I don't even know if she is human," Abe begins, "Well, obviously she's human, but I mean, just watching her kill some of those dead was like watching a whole new art form."

Richard nods his head, "She really looked out for Carl too; called him on his bullshit when he tried to take out three on his own."

"Great," Rick replies. "Do you think she knew you guys were there?"

Both men shake their heads.

"Nope, we were at a very safe distance; used the scope for viewing and did not interfere at all," Richard answers.

"Good," Rick says, and goes back to communicating with the engine room.

It wasn't until much later, when they were taking their meals that evening in Carl's cabin before he had to go in his cell, when Rick asks Michonne about her day.

"It went well. How was yours?" Michonne responds cordially.

Rick raises his brow, _'Okay so it's going to be that kind of night.'_ He thinks _._ "Something is wrong with the third engine; it was a mess to fix."

"Sounds nice," Michonne replies absentmindedly.

"Nice? It was a mess to fix; I nearly threw Jesus off the ship. He clearly didn't know what he was doing." Rick responds, slightly agitated.

Michonne is deep in thought and doesn't respond.

For the whole week of being in each other's company, they say very little. Michonne keeps her mind as busy as she can because she doesn't really want to think about Rick Grimes at all. Yet, he was on her mind every second of the day. The last time they ate together, Carl said something that made her stop to think and reevaluate her life. Michonne had enjoyed the way she had freely lived her life as it was her own. She had planned dinners with Eugene, utilizing his expertise in the kitchen, all to surprise the crew's palette. She tried to read, but gave up when she lacked the concentration; she had even helped Jesus create and draw up weapons. She was being taught to read maps and charts by Aaron and was even taught, and took a liking to sky golf, by Abe. Even then, when she had all of these things to occupy her mind, she still thought about Rick.

Rick continues to watch her openly and quietly wondering where her mind is. "Where are you?" he asks.

Michonne says nothing.

' _Lovers' quarrel.'_ Jesus though while watching them both and sighs on how the night will be.

Carl frowns as he shifts his gaze between his dad, Michonne and Jesus,"This is going to be an extra long night," he mumbles under his breath.

It was the longest and most awkward dinner they all have had. Before being locked in his damn cell for the eighth night, Carl looks at his dad, "Whatever you did, fix it dad."

"I agree," Jesus adds as he punches in the access code locking Carl in. It was the same plan every night. No one gets in and no one gets out and they wait, but then nothing happens. Rick pulls out his pocket watch to look at the time and frowns.

Carl turns to face the three in the room, "Something is different."

Rick tenses up, "What's different?" he asks.

"Nothing, I feel nothing," Carl responds.

Rick exchanges glances with Michonne and Jesus.

"This is good, right? We are on the evening of night eight and Carl feels nothing," Michonne said.

"Interesting, we possibly have seven nights from the evening of a full moon," Jesus says to himself and opens the book he and Daryl have been working on; it had both their drawings and their individual notes. He begins writing his observation note with the date and time.

"This is good," Rick says and walks up to the cell, "Open it."

Jesus looks up from the notebook, "Well let's not be hasty Rick; let's stick to the plan and I'll key in the code at dawn, like what we've been doing the past seven nights. We need to be sure." Jesus then faces Carl, "Is that okay with you?"

"Carl shrugs, "It's your throats. I'm okay with dawn. I may actually get some sleep for the first time since."

It ended up not being a long night for Carl after all; once he lay his head down on the cot he fell right to sleep. Jesus made notes in the book and felt confident that it would only last seven days from a full moon. He closes the book around midnight, and soon fashions a bed in the chair he was in, hoisting his foot in another chair. He fell asleep a few minutes later, leaving Rick to get in Michonne's space.

"Is everything okay Michonne" Rick whispers, concern on his face.

Michonne sighs, "Everything is fine, I'm just restless."

"Well not to worry, if you're looking for action we should be back in Virginia soon, got that third engine working like it should, so not long."

Michonne smiles, and yet her thoughts, again, are elsewhere. She welcomes his nearness and admits to herself that was what she really missed about him the most.

"You getting off the ship for a breather had me thinking," Rick takes another step closer to her,

"And your conclusion to this thought?" she asks.

"We have been in cities of Georgia, Virginia, and New York, and not once have I asked you if you wanted to join me or dine with me off this ship."

"Hmm you're right, you haven't, but things have gotten really…" Michonne wasn't sure how to describe the last few weeks, "Wild. Bizarre."

Rick moves in closer and reaches out to her, slowly pulling her in a tight embrace. He looks down into her brown eyes, "Well something is very clear, here, when I say I miss holding you like this, Michonne."

Michonne gazes into his blue eyes, while wrapping her arms around his neck, "I agree."

"You've been in our company, _my_ company, for nearly six months and recently went from good company, friends, and now lovers."

Michonne smiles as she begins to play with the curls at the nape of his neck, "Lovers, we're lovers now?"

Rick nods his head, "It is very safe to say that your very presence is intoxicating and I want much more from you Michonne."

"And I'm willingly giving it to you."

"I don't want to mess this up. I'm not really good with the whole wining and dining."

Michonne chuckles, "I think we have surpassed the wining and dining."

"Yes, but I want to, and will, do this right: the courting, taking meals together, and then all the really good stuff and things afterwards."

Michonne crosses her brow, "Stuff and things?"

Rick smiles, "You know the part where the good things happen after all that wining and dining."

"I don't know what you mean; can you give me a demonstration?" Michonne asks teasingly.

Rick was happy to oblige her; he tilts his head down to Michonne and captures her lips in a kiss. It was soft and sweet but then Rick tried to pry her lips open with his tongue; she moves back from the kiss.

"Oh, those stuff and things?" she asks. "You do know that we are in the company of others and we both know how every time you use that tongue of yours I lose all senses and find myself leaning against something with that mouth of yours between my legs."

Rick moans at that very truthful statement as he reaches for Michonne and kisses her passionately again.

' _Oh god this man can kiss.'_ Michonne thinks; it felt like she was spinning but grounded. It was really hard to end the wonderful kiss, but she does, to Rick's disappointment.

"Rick," Michonne whispers loudly, "Company."

With frustration written on his face, he replies, "Fine, but the minute daylight hits those windows, Michonne, I have every intention in making up for lost time."

* * *

 _Thank you Siancore and thank you for reading and reviewing. Happy Thanksgiving! - eMMe_


	11. CH 10: The Sign

I'm going to tell you guys right now that I've lost the will to write TWD fanfiction. I've been sitting on this beta edit from Siancore (thanks girl) for about two months now asking myself 'what the fuck am I doing, this is not fun anymore.' For those of you who follow/fav this story; YOU ARE THE VERY BEST OF THE BEST - THANK YOU!

This story is going on **temporary hiatus** , that is until I can find my happy and enjoy writing fanfiction again. _eMMe_

* * *

" **The Sign"**

Daryl was willing and able to leave and make the trip; he wanted to leave anyway, more now than ever before, because of the things he has seen the previous week. One simply could not un-see a person's flesh falling off on its own; it has been haunting his sleep and Daryl enjoys his sleep, when he finds the time. Besides, this is what Daryl does anyway: always ready to fight and always there when someone calls for help. He can just imagine what Rick is going through; he couldn't even remember the last time Rick had a full night's sleep.

Daryl left _The Bandit Hunter_ on bike the same day they got word on Alexandria needing help; the ship wouldn't arrive for at least two maybe three days. There was no plan set in motion when he took fifteen men with him to make the trip back. The question they had asked Morales was why _Screams of Lucille_ was still there. He could not give them an answer.

The wolf was careful with his kills; it was always take three each night and then leave quickly. They track it into the nearby forest but then lose the trail.

"Get as much Intel, kill as many of his men you can and we'll formulate a thorough plan when we arrive," Rick said before Daryl left.

They stopped once for a break and then rode on all through the night, arriving at the home of The Williams by midday. They settle their bikes in a neat row alongside the dirt path leading up to the house, which was also a few feet away from the dock.

' _Feels like we never left._ ' Daryl thought as he glances out the water's edge. He faces the house again when he hears the front door open. It is The Williams; they are sophisticatedly dressed for the day. He watches as Tyrese and his sister, Sasha, walk down the path to greet them warmly. Tyrese gives him a firm handshake, "Thought it wouldn't be this soon to see you again but we are grateful."

"We came once we got word," Daryl answers, then glance over to Sasha, "Hello Ms. Williams."

Sasha smiles and walks up to Daryl, "Hello Mr. Dixon, it's been a while."

She sticks her gloved hand out expecting him to take it, but he does not. Daryl does the unexpected instead: he pulls Sasha into his arms and embraces her tightly. He inhales deeply, taking in her scent of the country air and lavender. This hug, this most public display of affection surprised not only the men, who tried to look busy, but Sasha too. It was what Sasha needed, considering the mess they have been dealing with the past week; both the werewolf prowling and killing just about everything in sight of an evening, and the tyrannical demands of the Saviors during the day.

Letting her go, Daryl looks up to see Morales standing off to the side and nods his head his way.

"Any chance we could get something to eat and someplace to clean up?"

"Sure," Tyrese answers as they lead them all into their home.

Upon entry, Daryl's stomach grumbles loudly as he smells something appetizing cooking on the stove.

Sasha chuckles. "How about we feed you guys first and then you can get cleaned up," she advises; the men around Daryl agree wholeheartedly.

The men spoke of the hellish week they had especially with young Grimes turning, not witnessing the turn but from the expression on Daryl there was no more talk of the week the ship crew had of that night.

Daryl faces Tyrese and Sasha, "Anything happen last night?"

They both shook their heads but Tyrese spoke up, "Nothing, it was quiet but we have received a new set of demands nailed to our front door. Saw it when I went to call on my fiancé."

"Show me the demand," Daryl instructs as he tapes Abe to hand him a bowl. There was a slight scraping of chairs so there was a place for Daryl to sit and he begins spooning the meal on to his plate.

Tyrese leaves the room and returns a moment later with the note and hands it to Daryl to read it He frown a few times while reading the demands he slides the paper over to everyone else to look over.

After finishing his meal, Tyrese motions to the very back of the house, "We have two bathrooms in the back and three upstairs. We'll get toiletries out for you guys."

"I'll have Daryl use the one off the property," Sasha added. A few of the men exchange looks that Tyrese could not have missed; with his brow creased, he purses his lips together.

"Hey," Daryl raises his hand in the air and looks around the room, "Forgive them for the crude like looks, Ty. I am not going to wait around for one of these sorry asses to finish cleaning up; we have work to do and little time to do it."

Tyrese says nothing for a moment, before offering a simple, "Accepted."

It took a lot for Sasha not to roll her eyes and give an exasperated sigh; her brother knows how deeply she feels for Daryl. Having been so independent and single, Sasha did things her way; always has and always will. She did not see the big deal in leading Daryl off the property. Sasha gets up from her seat and Daryl follows; they head toward the very back of the house.

They walk side by side in silence, passing a small garden; Sasha stops and plucks a single flower, before continuing on. Her trail got smaller with Daryl having to follow behind her. He takes the opportunity to take in the sight before him and smiles when he realizes that she was wearing a gold color dress. It seems she favors that color very much and the dress did very little to conceal what was obviously there. He never understood the complexity of women's fashion, but he was never one to complain about it either. Daryl nearly collides into her when she stops in front of a shed. Upon entry, it was like a mini home: it had a tiny kitchen and a table with a single chair.

"What's this?"

Sasha shrugs, "It's just another place to clean up," She then motions to the back, "Beyond those curtains is everything you need; hurry up."

The shower system was different from the ship, it wasn't a pulley cord system, but a water well crank. When Daryl was done he had expected to see her still in the room, but instead saw her shadow through the shed door.

"Clean clothes waiting for me and in my size too, how did you manage that? You really didn't have too," Daryl says as he makes his way out the door, dressed in the garments she had provided; his worn clothing rolled and tucked under his arm. He places his goggle around his neck. He does nothing to his hair, given its short length.

Sasha leans into him and smiles secretly, "I know, let's just say I pay attention to everything. Come, I want to show you something and this **you** will love."

Daryl follows her around the shed and watches in silence as she remove a board from the wall of the shed,she reach inside to turn the handles, Sasha steps back and pulls back the artificial soil from the earth; hidden below was a door that was open. He once again follows her lead but takes a hold of her hand to help her walk down the flight of stairs; he is worried her heels may give her cause to stumble and fall.

Sasha knew where she was stepping, but thanks Daryl for aiding her. They make their way to the very underbelly of the earth and, to his wonder and amazement; he was staring at an arsenal of weapons.

Daryl walks around the room grinning the whole time. "This is nice, really nice. A woman after my own heart," Daryl says; he then realizes it was too late to take it back so he plays it off as he walks the room. He pulls out a few random weapons and glances over them; he notices a few were dated but still good.

"What is that smile doing on your face? A momentous moment indeed Mr. Dixon, no scowls, not even frowns." Sasha teasing replied.

Daryl chuckles and glances her way, before looking back at the wall, "Give me a second," Daryl places his hand on his head, "I was really worried back there, about not bringing enough fire power, but we can do a lot of damage with what you have in storage."

"Thought you should know where we stored our weapons," Sasha says as she places her hand on her favorite sniper rifle that Jesus personally modified just for her, "There was more but we supplied the Alexandrian community."

"Good." Daryl would have done the same.

"Come, we should head back. My brother will think something other than what I said I would do is happening. I told him nothing was going to happen considering how much of a prude you are."

Daryl balks at that lie, "What? That is not a very nice thing to say Ms. Williams, I was being a gentleman. Had you been a man…" Daryl voice trails off.

"Yes, had I been a man, you'd what? Sock me in the jaw," Sasha laughs she walks up to Daryl, "I gave you so many hints too; I knew you were interested but…"

"You are correct, I would sock you and I did get your hints especially from the words you wrote in that letter, I responded to that letter as a gentleman should do."

Sasha was surprised, "You sent me a letter?"

"Of course I did. I kept replaying what you whispered in my ear over and over again, I had to write to you."

Sasha smiles, "Good, it was meant to be memorable."

"Ms. Williams, let's test this prude theory of yours. No one is here, why don't you say what you whispered in my ear out loud."

Well what a predicament Sasha had placed herself in, _'He thinks now I am the prude,_ She thought, _Well he's wrong._

Looking him straight in his eyes, Sasha had repeated what was whispered in his ear.

"Daryl Dixon if only we had a little more time together, all the things we can show and do for each other. Could you hurry back when the need calls for it."

Daryl raises his arms in the air, "Well, here I am."

Oh the shame, the scandal, especially being along with this man but who could possibly know about this moment right here, Sasha knew she would take this moment to the grave and she knows Daryl would too.

Sasha angles her head and leans forward and kisses Daryl on the lips. Daryl wasn't ready but he quickly recovers and wraps his arms around her; he returns the kiss.

' _Such soft lips.'_ He thought, probing her mouth open with his tongue; she breaks the kiss and steps back.

"It's evident that I am not a prude considering how good it was getting," Daryl smiles good-naturedly.

Sasha laughs, "Agreed, you're not a prude and I apologize for that."

They banter the whole way back to the house but the kiss was still on both of their minds. Everyone was waiting for them and once again Daryl got serious.

"It's time we pay a visit the Alexandrians," Daryl says to the group.

* * *

They were standing at the very front of the community center of Alexandria and again, Daryl is tasked with talking to a group and he still hates doing this shit. Again, all eyes eagerly watching him and waiting for the entire problem to be solved.

Carter introduces him as the voice of the community which got both Tyrese and Sash raising their brows, and he began to list all the Saviors' demands.

Tyrese leans in to whisper in Daryl's ear, " **WE** don't even know him."

"They want all of our livestock and our recent harvest of barley and hops. We are known for our beer across Virginia, we need that barley and hops," Carter voiced.

Daryl was hoping it would end soon, but then Carter got in to talking about their beer again and then he had to stop him.

"Look, the whole point of this meeting is NOT to supply this group with **anything**. Captain Grimes will be here in a day or two along with Captain Rhee and until then does anyone here know how to defend themselves, or use any kind of fire power like a ray-gun or maybe some aether?

"I took up boxing in my youth, but I gave that up a long time ago," a man shouted in the back.

"What is this aether?" another shouted.

"We can fight and we're really good with guns, knives too," a woman to the very right of Daryl said.

"Good, what's your name?"

"I'm Rosita." She then proceeds to introduce the other ladies, "And this is Jaqui, Holly and Frances."

Daryl tips his head at them, "Nice to meet you ladies."

"Oh the pleasure is all mine, handsome." Holly smiles warmly at Daryl.

Daryl clears his throat and could clearly see Sasha frowning at the one name Holly.

Daryl faces the crowd again, "Is there a doctor in the house?"

"Why? Are you sick?" Carter hollers back, "Oh God, they sent a sick man to us." Carter looks around frantically; it was obvious he was trying to get the room to panic. Instead, they look to Daryl anxiously.

Daryl sighs, "Carter, would you please shut your mouth. I am asking if you have a doctor because most doctors have aether on hand or a really sophisticated chemistry lab. Does this doctor have those things, why is the doctor not here?"

The room got eerily quiet.

Daryl face Sasha and Tyrese and saw they were quiet and thoughtful, "What, what happened?"

"He was killed by the werewolf on the first night," Tyrese said.

' _Great,'_ Daryl thinks.

"Well, show me where the recently departed worked?"

Holly spoke up eagerly, "I'll show you!"

"No, you may not," Sasha shakes her head, "Unless you know exactly what Mr. Dixon is looking for. One wrong move and that liquid can do some serious damage. I've seen it happen; it can even melt the bones off that pretty face of yours," Sasha says slowly and sweetly, "Terrible scene, I had to leave right away." Sasha covers her mouth while she shakes her head.

Daryl did not know Sasha was aware of this chemical and will talk to her later about it.

"As co leader of this community and for yours and everyone safety we will show him the doctors' lab," Sasha added.

Holly was about to say something but changes her mind. _'Daryl most certainly has his handsfull,'_ Tyrese thought as he looks at his sister trying to keep a straight face.

"Well that settles it, any chance I can get you four armed and station at the gate, we need eyes and this place doesn't haven't any."

"Yes, where do need us?" Jaqui asks.

Daryl faces the community, "We are not giving this group anything," Daryl points to the crew of men behind him, "These men know how to kill and protect but they cannot do it by themselves. You are going to listen to them. T-Dog, Axel, show these ladies where exactly they'll be stationed."

Daryl then faces Carter, "Carter, show Abe the supplies room; we will need everyone in this room with a weapon, no one walks around here empty handed. Everyone meet back here in an hour so Abe and Oscar can properly show you how to use them."

* * *

Negan wakes up bright and early, feeling light and relaxed after a turn. He is in good spirits; he props his foot on the table while reading the list of hauls they received from the surrounding communities. It was looking really good until he saw gold.

' _Gold? I'll be damn?'_ he thought. He lowers the paper so all they could see were his eyes and glares at Dwight, Arat and Simon. Then back at the piece of paper.

"Which one of you brought me gold?"

Arat step forward, "That would be me sir."

Negan slams the paper on the desk, "I specifically ask for alcohol, provisions, livestock, weapons like ray guns, more livestock and money but this," Negan grins, "This is much better."

Arat beams.

"You two can learn a few things from Arat, I expect better from you, especially you Dwight. You brought me the smallest haul from this Alexandrian place. You're slipping."

Dwight says nothing and Negan allows it; he faces Arat again.

"Arat, you and I are going to pay a visit to Gregory today and send word to Alpha to meet us there as well. I haven't seen that sneaky bitch in a while and I need to know what she has been up too."

"Simon, I want **you** to visit Alexandria today; take everything from that place and burn it to the ground." Negan eyes Dwight, "You, you, you," Negan shakes his head while moving his index finger side to side and clicks his tongue, "What to do with you? I can't very well have you sitting on this ship doing nothing. You know what; you can come with me and Arat. You can learn a thing or two from her."

' _Well at least he didn't remove my rank or throw me overboard or some shit like that._ ' Dwight thought, _'Still safe, still alive.'_

Dwight sat quietly in the back while Negan did most of the talking during the drive to The Hilltop; it was in some contraption Gregory gifted to Negan in _"good faith"_. Negan had laughed when he first saw the vehicle; he laughs even more now when he walks around the machine on four wheels and thought about scraping in.

"What the hell; let's see how this works."

And here they are, about to die in any moment. Arat did most of the responding while Negan swerves left, then swiftly to the right as he works the stick in front of him and pedals at the bottom of his feet.

' _What the hell is this contraption?'_ Dwight thought, _'A death trap is what it is.'_

Negan just laughs. Dwight can see the fear in Arat's face when she glances his way but continues to smile.

Dwight was beyond happy when he saw the hedges of The Hilltop in sight, Negan slows the contraption down then reaches for his bat between his leg and whacks a dead on the head. He then hands the bat to Arat so she clean it off.

They wait for the gate to open and Negan practically rides the machine right into several rose bushes at the front of the home of Gregory.

They walk right up to the door. Negan reaches for the knob just as it is opened by Gregory himself; he moves to the side to let them enter his home. Gregory was all smiles and so was Negan.

"I know how you love our social calls, Gregory, come, we need to talk." Negan raises Lucille and rest her over his shoulder; he wraps the other hand around Gregory's shoulder and motions him towards the veranda.

Negan unbuttons his dark waist coat, but doesn't remove it as he sits down; he props Lucille right next to him. Dwight leans against the pillars facing Gregory's vast property, while Arat takes a seat next to Gregory and across from Negan

Negan places his feet on the table in front of him, having no care of his dusty black boots making a mess on the clean surface before raising his arm to rest comfortably over his seat, "Alpha should be here shortly."

Gregory stiffens, "Alpha, Alpha is coming here?" Gregory reaches in his breast coat pocket for his handkerchief.

"Afraid of a little magic Gregory; she isn't going to hurt you." Negan laughs then reaches over and grabs the handkerchief from Gregory before throwing it to the ground, "Grow some balls. Now go fetch someone and have them bring us something to eat for lunch, and a nice refreshing drink. And none of that mini sandwich shit, I want something hearty and filling."

' _But it's still morning, what is in the kitchen that is already cooked?_ ' Gregory thought; he stood up immediately, leaving them to relax on the veranda.

Gregory returns with a trolley cart and Alpha in tow, and she was dressed impeccably. This takes Negan by surprise.

' _Probably thought I dressed up for him',_ Alpha muses and tries not to show any expression of disgust.

Alpha has returned from her morning in Downtown; she doesn't venture out from her confines since she is well known throughout the parts as a witch; she has never denied it. She was dressed in her signature color: green. Even her gloves were green. The only thing different was the lace hat on her red head, it was a bright yellow.

Negan stands up and tries greeting Alpha expressively, by wrapping his arms around her. Appalled by such a brash behavior, and the fact that he would even try touching her, Alpha raise both her arms up and pushes Negan off from her, nearly causing her to fall over his shadow number two: Arat.

Alpha pushes herself off Arat and scowls at Negan, "Don't you ever do that again, honor my space, Negan." She then shakes herself off and whispers a few words before taking a seat closes to his shadow number one: Dwight, "Why do you provoke me so?"

"I want to see how much power you can release, come on, give us a taste," Negan says; he eggs her on hoping to get some kind of reaction, smiling the whole time.

' _I could just kill him but then I won't know the guarantee of what is rightly mine, oh, how I hate him, I should kill him.'_ Alpha thought.

She ignores his taunts. Not getting her to take the bait, Negan faces Gregory, "Well?! Are you going to serve us or am I to do it myself? Dwight go help the man and pour us all a drink."

"Oh right, sorry," Gregory stands up again and lifts the tray of the pork; he begins to cut into the tender meat, making sure the portions were large. Once satisfied, he removes plates from the bottom of the cart and spoon cut pieces of veggies and mixed greens next to the pork and serves a plate to Alpha and Arat first. Negan observe this quietly, and even thanks Gregory for his plate. Once everyone is served, they all eat in silence keeping their own thoughts company.

' _Why won't Alpha just kill him, is she even a witch, witch my ass_ ' Gregory thought, _'or why hasn't this Rick Grimes fellow killed him, if he had just join me on the veranda for a drink and give me a chance to know him and simply just save me from getting my hands dirty.'_

' _Where is he hiding her?"_ Alpha thought _, 'if I can just get a piece of information, maybe one of his shadows can tell me something.'_

' _This meal is a joke, you're all a joke every single one of you. Especially you Dwight, so close to him and won't even try to stick a piece of silver in his side.'_ Arat thought, _'coward, hell I'm a coward too. Now after this I'm going to have to stay with Negan in town watching and probably partaking in things I have no business doing.'_

' _Join me be a part of an elite team I call the Saviors he said, I can only count on you he said, pay those boys to lure that Carl Grimes he'll be fine he said, What a fucking mess you got yourself in Dwight,_ Dwight thought, _'haven't seen my wife in months, now he's talking about London, going even much further away from home._

' _Fuck! This one delicious piece of pork, I should trade the cook Joe for his cook.' Negan thought, Ha I wonder if Alpha is trying to figure out how to obtain information on the where I hid her daughter's body. She'll never see her until I am good and done with her.'_

Negan finishes his meal first and hands his plate over to Dwight, who barely touched his; he got comfortable in his seat and began his meeting.

"Listen, Gregory, I know you've been funneling money to your state senator and in turn this senator would help you in regards to connections, but things have been moving slow since we obtained those documents from that doctor down in Georgia. You need to think bigger, like from a global scale. What if I told you that you can do this? **You** sell this formula to the highest bidder and **we** are getting something in return. **You** find a chemist to test it out, make sure it works, and I will financially back it up, everything. Everybody wants to rule the world, so why can't we?"

Gregory wipes his mouth with his napkin and covers his half-eaten plate, "This will take a lot of money."

"Find a chemist and get the formula tested, if it works I'll fund you."

"If I do this, I want some kind of failsafe, something to protects me."

"Fuck no; funding you is your failsafe," Negan retorts, "Don't try growing a pair now."

"I have a few chemists in mind."

"Not a few, "Negan raise his index finger, "You just need one."

"Have you seen the formula? It will take weeks, months in fact, if one chemist were to work on it."

Negan sighs and reaches for Lucille, "Christ, get however many you need. I don't care, they're all dead once it's confirmed."

Gregory purses his lips and says nothing.

Negan then faces Alpha and raises his hand in the air, "Well?"

"Nothing new to report."

Negan glares at Alpha, "What do you mean nothing new to report?"

Placing the half empty plate on the coffee table, Alpha sits back and crosses her legs, "I told you everything I know in our last note."

"Yes, _The Bandit Hunter_ left Virginia soon after getting Carl, but I need to know if he is dead. Is Rick dead?"

"I don't know."

"What the fuck do you mean by you don't know, you are practically my eyes on that fucking ship, so what do you mean by you don't know." Negan was getting upset.

"Like I said, I don't-."

Negan cuts her off while he grips the bat tighter, "And don't you fucking tell me I don't know again, I gave you one simple task, Alpha."

Alpha, feeling indifferent, eyes his bat, "You kill me and that animal you mysteriously know how to control won't be controlled anymore and that protection spell I cast, yes, gone too. And that precious silver bat you're holding, remember what silver can do to you. Don't forgot I have things over you too."

"I should still kill you!" Negan angrily shouts.

"Yes, do it Negan, do it." Alpha says egging him on the same way he tried provoking her on earlier.

Realizing what she was doing, Negan begins to laugh, shaking his index finger at her, "Soon Alpha, I promise."

"I cannot wait," she answers smugly.

Negan, annoyed that the second part of the meeting did not go well, stands immediately; he tucks Lucille under his arms and begins to button his coat, "Arat, Dwight, let's go."

Alpha stands, too, happy that the meeting went well for herG glancing down at her wrist, pieces of both Arat's and Dwight's hair is wrapped around her bracelet.

Down on his knees, Simon screams as he pulls the mini arrow out from the palm of his hand and drops it to the ground. Blood gushes from the wound; he closes his hand tightly to stop the flow. He looks up at the man and shouts in anger, "You'll pay for that."

"No, you'll pay for that," the man says as he picks up the dropped arrow, raises his arm again, and pierces his other hand with the same bolt, "And leave it where it is."

Simon feels a tingling first, followed by a painful burning sensation in his hand, "My hands are burning."

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," The man looks down at the crossbow, "It was the first weapon I grabbed. The captain had this weapon fashioned for a lady guest on our ship, and it seems, like me, she has a thing for weapons. Came on board with just a sword, now her cabin is…" The man whistle, "I thought it was my crossbow, looks very similar just as light too."

The man flips it between hands to prove his point, "The difference between hers and mine is the obvious. Poison, it's in the tip of all these arrows," The man tilts his crossbow to show Simon the series of arrows in their chamber, all in a neat row, minus one. "I was going to just shoot you, but dying painfully is fine too."

Simon looks up at the man, "What? Why?"

"What do you mean by what and why, because you're a dick who refuses to listen."

"I'm going to die?" Simon asks in disbelief.

"Don't act surprised; without a doubt you're going to die."

Simon cringes in pain and immediately starts to beg for his life, causing the man to chuckle.

"You want to come here making demands, killing people and then turn around and beg for your life."

Simon coughs and spits up blood, "Well I have learned my lesson, I won't bother you anymore. Or, or, let me plead my case with you captain, a deal perhaps, mercy on a parley."

The man leans back and starts laughing. "Parley?" then he looks back at the men behind him, "He just asks us for a parley like we're pirates."

A roar of laughter erupts from the men.

The man squats down and got at eye level with Simon, he was eerily calm. "This is not the high seas and we are not air pirates either. We lost good men on _The Bandit Hunter_ , your leader Negan marked the captain's son, who by the way is my nephew, and you're telling me, with pierced flesh, that miraculously, you see the error of your ways."

Daryl saw the realization on the man face, "Good, so glad you'll die knowing who killed you. There is a saying somewhere about poison being a lady's choice for a slow revenge."

Simon gripes in pain and looks around for help; any sign of life from the group of men and women he brought along for the trip to the they were all dead, their heads and body parts burned into nothing from the rays of the guns that was used.

"I overestimated you," Simon screams from the pain. It felt like his insides were being turned inside out, he held his abdomen with his bloody arms.

Daryl stands back up, lifts the crossbow and rests it on his shoulder, "Yes, yes, you did. And when you die, you will come back as the dead too."

Daryl turns his back as the man screams in pain; he and the others casually stroll back towards the town of Alexandria.

Simon coughs brought forth more blood, he tries to speak "Ne, Negan won't like, he'll find…" He doesn't finish, the poison has taken effect and expires his life.

* * *

 _Merry Christmas & a Happy New Year! - eMMe_


	12. CH 11: Take What You Want & Go

Code note: Uhm, I think I'm back – maybe. I am so glad I was able to rewrite it and yeahhhh, this is a boring chapter however I hope you enjoy it.

 **A massively giant virtual hug to Siancore 3**

Things to know/remember

Aether (Chemistry): pleasant-smelling, colorless, volatile liquid that is highly flammable

Steampower Flying Airships: Using a Clockwork system the heat boils water in a pressurized boiler, turning it into saturated steam

raygun: very light weight with clips made of silver nitrate

* * *

"Take What You Want and Go"

At last, _The Bandit Hunter_ has arrived and once again safely docks on the shores of The Williams' property. Daryl welcomes them warmly and brought Rick up to speed on the daily and nightly activities that had transpired. Then, he inquired why they were late; Daryl did not miss the way Rick had eyed Jesus.

"The third boiler was giving us some trouble," Carl chimes in.

"Rick was somewhat obsessed with it," Michonne added, "The problem was fixed but he would not leave the boiler crew alone." Michonne then gave Rick a friendly pat on his arm.

"The pressurized boiler were being overcompensated but praise Jesus, Jesus saved the day," Jesus added teasingly

"In matter of speaking, you know what I realized seems to work -," began Daryl.

Rick raise his hand in the air cutting Daryl off, "It was a good thing I notice right away something was going on, the damn thing would -."

Jesus raises his hand to stop him from speaking, "Explode? Never! Now, I understand this is your ship but this is my area of expertise and she," Jesus turns to point at _The Bandit Hunter_ , "Is still standing. You do not find me giving you gentlemen advice on how to do your job."

Michonne looks over at Jesus, "How do you put up with it Jesus?"

"With a grain of salt and a shard of glass," he answered and both Rick and Daryl balk at such a harsh response. "I don't tell them how to maneuver or plan but maybe I should give my input."

The three men go off on a tangent on how the mechanics of the ship work, which then turns into a very heated and animated conversation. Off to the side, Carl finds the whole conversation humorous but immediately stops laughing when he heard his name called out by Jesus. He groans loudly. He was now caught in the crossfire and wish he hadn't said anything on the matter.

Carl had his hands out in defense, "Not I, I didn't say you weren't doing your job, Jesus, all I ask was why it was giving us trouble."

Jesus frowns "Don't act so innocent, Carl. I could have sworn some of the most preposterous suggestions came from you only a day ago."

Carl laughs uncomfortably, "Only because I wanted to learn."

Jesus' frown deepen as he crosses his arms, "By turning the first boiler completely off, after I specifically said not to. Yes, that is learning."

"He did WHAT?" Rick whips his head toward Carl and frowns.

"Way to go tattling on me Jesus."

With arms still crossed, Jesus shrugs his shoulders.

"Dad, listen, it was not a big deal, all is well, and we are all here safe and sound. Not one scratch." Carl then smiles reassuringly.

Rick creases his brow and his frown deepens, "My ship, my rules."

"Yes, we all know _'you ship your rules', yet_ it would not be a disservice if you just listen," Jesus added.

Sasha shakes her head, "You all arrived safe and sound, what is wrong?"

Busy arguing among themselves the men did not hear her; even if they did they ignored Sasha's question.

Michonne leans in and whispers to Sasha, "Take notice, not one of them is actually listening to the one person that actually knows the mechanics of the ship. If only you were there, understandably _The Bandit Hunter_ is Rick's life, something is wrong with 'her' something is wrong with Rick. He needed to make sure everything was working properly. Do you know he was going to rebuild a whole new thermostat and boiler, in THE air? Jesus had to stop him. We were all in a complete state of panic."

Sasha wasn't versed in the world of airships but the pursed lip and creases in Michonne's brow clearly displayed that the last few days had been most trying and thought best to direct the conversation to something light instead.

"Perhaps you can tell me when you started addressing Mr. Grimes so informally?"

Michonne gave Sasha an exasperated look and Sasha smiles innocently back at her.

Sasha knew Michonne wasn't going to give up any kind of information so willingly.

"It is such a lovely morning let us leave these men to their own devices and whatever it may currently be and you can fill me in on everything else. I had the kitchen put a huge pot of crabs to boil, yes?"

Michonne nods her head in agreement, "What a wonderful idea."

They links arms and make their way toward the Williams home leaving the men to disagree among themselves.

* * *

It wasn't until much later when the men went looking for them and was told by the kitchen staff where to find them. They found Ms. Brownfield and Ms. William in the gazebo laughing with a bucket of discarded crab shells nearby. Both ladies quiet down and observe the seriousness on their faces. Sasha taps Michonne's arm and mimics Daryl's frown. In response, Michonne points out both father and son's stance, right down to them resting their weight to the right; that got the ladies laughing again.

Daryl crosses his arms, "Well I am really happy we amuse you two."

Sasha points to a huge pot close to her, "There is plenty to go around."

"Yes, yes come sit with us and amuse us some more," Michonne chimed in, "Hopefully you all are ready to behave like gentlemen."

Rick chuckles as he leans all his weight on the gazebo railing.

"Everything taken care of?" Sasha asks.

"Oh, yes," Jesus said, "We have all agreed that Richard Grimes is a terrible listener."

"And I call foul, I am an excellent listener, I listen to all provided suggestions and go with the best one," Rick exclaims.

Jesus laughs, "All suggestions? – ha, the only voice you listen to is yours alone. I can count and recount the times we, Dixon included, have told you not to do something and you went ahead and still did it."

Jesus then eyes Rick's prosthetic hand, the silver chrome glimmering in the mid day sun.

"Careful," Rick scowls.

"Did it get cold all of a sudden?" Daryl asks as he saw Rick's jaw tighten, "Because I am not staying around to see or hear where this conversation is going." He removes his footing from the gazebo steps.

"Why? I think we can learn a thing or two here," Carl adds; he really wanted to see where all this was going. It wasn't everyday he got to hear everyone speak this freely.

' _Oh, oh,'_ Michonne thought, _'time to change the discussion.'_

"Well I have some happy news for you all. I had extended an invitation to my masquerade ball to the Williams and Miss Williams here gladly accepted," she smiles. "I have also invited them to join us when we depart as my personal guest, so Mr. Dixon be a gentleman and be nice, no bad omen talks."

Daryl stops and faces both ladies then rests his eyes on Sasha, "I am not promising anything."

"Well I did ask Ms. Brownfield if she knew if you could dance," Sasha adds.

"I can dance but who said anything about my attendance to this ball? We got more important things to do right here," Daryl answers.

"Well, Ms. Brownfield had mentioned that Mr. Grimes was too kind in lending us a few of his men to escort her and I had inquired on this," Sasha turns to Michonne, "What was his name again?"

"Abe, Abraham Ford."

"That's right," Sasha faces Daryl again with a huge smile on her face, "An Abraham Ford. I have seen him a few times on deck; I think he wouldn't mind being my escort."

' _To hell with Abe being her escort.'_ Daryl thought to himself.

"What is this Rick? Is everyone going to this ball? Rick?" Daryl was slightly annoyed.

Rick's thoughts were elsewhere, but he absentmindedly nodded his head, "Yes, I mentioned something to Jesus and both Martinez and Ford, but no one else. I had no idea you would be interested in going."

Sasha discreetly winks at Michonne.

"Speaking of going, did you know Mr. Grimes, I also asked Ms. Brownfield if she knew if you could dance too?"

Michonne chuckles, "And I said indeed Mr. Grimes can dance the moves alone from the other…"

Rick immediately stood up from leaning on the rails panic on his face, "Wait just a minute here let's make sure we are talking about dancing here."

He then faces Michonne who had genuine confusion on her face. But when she realizes what she was so nearly going to say, well repeat, she glances at Sasha and that got both ladies began laughing again.

Rick pulls out his pocket watch and did not realize how late in the day it was.

"Although it is very nice to see us gentlemen being the cause of your humor, we have more pressing matters here, I want to head to Alexandria now, meet this community. How soon can we leave?"

"We can leave now," Daryl says.

Upon hearing that, Sasha's thoughts were no longer cloudy. There was no way Daryl Dixon was going to Alexandria while that Ms. Hussy Holly was still there.

Sasha stood up abruptly from her seating, "Alexandria you say? Of course, I can be ready in ten minutes."

Michonne sat back in her seat confused, one minute they were laughing and enjoying themselves but her friend got tense and annoyed once hearing the community. She will have to ask Sasha about the shift in her mood.

Rick glances at his watch again then places it back in his pocket, "That time seems reasonable. I will give you both ten and then we leave."

* * *

At the front of the open room Rick stands quietly. He surveys the room with his arms crossed and his goggles resting comfortably on top of his head. The community was abuzz with excitement; they welcomed Rick as warmly as the man who sent aide and saved them from the Saviors. He was waiting for everyone to quiet down. A few of the community children had look in awe at his prosthetic hand, a little girl touched it and held his hand in hers as she flipped it over, her eyes round as saucers as she looks and touch each mechanical fingertips. She asks him if what she was doing hurt. With a smile on his face, Rick told her that when he was relearning to use his hand again it did but not anymore. Satisfied with his answer, she lets his hand go and went chasing after a few of her friends.

The room finally quietens down and Rick got straight to business.

"What Mr. Dixon did has only scratched the surface, and that is all we have been doing. Scratching the surface, my associates and crew have been dealing with this Negan and his Saviors for the better part of the year."

Rick began to walk and stops in the middle of the room, "This is what you need to know: their leader Negan is a werewolf who have been terrorizing your community the past seven days, we also know that he has not left Virginia. Why? We are not sure. I have men scouting the area for his whereabouts. Now this part is very important and I need you all to listen. YOU are ALL going to help us get this man."

A man from the front stood up, "What do you mean by **need to know** and you are all? We are not fighters, or pirates but a peaceful community."

Rick scowls at the man, "You," he points to the man, "Do you not value your life?"

Rick doesn't wait for a response; he looks to the crowd again and asks, "Do any of you value your life? I value mine and so does my crew. We are here to help you, now this is the plan."

The meeting with the community ended with everyone knowing what they had to do. They were now on their way to the home of the late doctor to inventory the aether. Carl's mind is elsewhere; he is busy spinning his goggles when he stops mid-step and sniffs the air.

"Whose house is this?" he asks, pointing to a two story a few meters from them.

"Oh, that's the bakery. Olivia makes the best buttered breads."

"Breads? Are you sure?" Carl sniffs the air some more.

"What is it?" Michonne asks. She gasps when Carl's eyes change.

Carl then faces them, "Something is not right. **He** was at that house, I can smell him."

Carl didn't have to say who the he was, they knew.

Before they could say anything Carl ran towards the house with Rick and Michonne going after him.

"How do we play this?" Jesus asks.

Sasha faces both men, "Can someone tell me what going on with the young Grimes. Is that natural, the way his eyes change like that?"

"Well, I don't think he's in there but we must be practical and safe." Daryl answer

"Well don't kill first and pretend you were going to ask questions isn't being practical and safe Daryl," Jesus added as they walk briskly towards the house.

Sasha maintains the pace of the two men and repeats what she had said a few moments before as they meet up with the others who were standing below the steps.

"Ms Williams, Carl is a werewolf, you know this and it seems that his eyes would change. Now as far as that house, that bakery, while here I am unaware of any wrong doing but if Carl could smell his presence then something may be wrong."

"Oh he was here," Carl said in confidence. "He has marked his territory."

"Marked his territory?" Sasha asks in near disgust, "A grown man?"

Carl sniffs the air some more, "I wouldn't pass him to do something like that but no, the were' did. It marked its territory here."

Carl points to the landing and the hedges along the side of the house, "Over in those bushes too."

Carl faces his dad, "Let me go in first, before you say no hear me out. I don't think she would willingly give up anything about Negan if we all barge in with guns loaded. Let me feel her out. Who knows? Maybe she doesn't know anything."

Rick reholsters his gun and nods his head, "I'm giving you five minutes and."

"Rick!" Daryl looks over at him with a look of surprise.

Rick shakes his head, "Five minutes, we'll give you five minutes."

"Five is enough," Carl said and makes his way up the stairs and through the door of Olivia's sweets and smoke shop.

They stood there in silence waiting for those very long five minutes to be up when Oscar comes running up.

"Captain! Captain Grimes, we got the ship radioing in for you." He hands the phone over.

"Put it through." Rick listen for the clicks signaling the line went through, "This is the Captain for _The Bandit Hunter_."

"So professional, so bloody serious too. Now I know you miss me but I wasn't expecting anything from you or from Dixon for another year." The voice on the line says.

Rick laughs, "I am so glad to hear from you, really it's about damn time Rhee."

* * *

More Code note: Its going to be a while before I am back officially.

Are there any Attack on Titan anime/movie fans? This question has nothing to do with upcoming chapters I just want to know if you watch it


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